


Starcross'd Surgeons

by ProfessorFlimflam



Category: Holby City
Genre: Bastardizing Shakespeare, F/F, Lizardry, Romeo and Juliet AU, shakespeare au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-28 10:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/pseuds/ProfessorFlimflam
Summary: Following a tip-off from a source known only as "Wonko," we bring you what is already being calledThe Lost Folio. In an unprecedented find, a printed script purporting to be authored by the Bard of Wyvern himself was rescued from the burning remains of a shed at Holby’s Lovers Lane allotments.It appears to be a re-telling of the celebrated tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, and is the only Shakespeare[?] play to openly celebrate same-sex love, between two surgeons, Bernie Wolfe of Montague ward, and Serena Campbell of Capulet. Only their union can end the feud between the wards, but can they avoid the tragic end which befell their heterosexual teenage counterparts? Well, they are equals...





	1. The Lost Folio: Act I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wonko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a feud is established between the wards of Montague and Capulet, a Professor seeks an assistant, and two lovers become acquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Wonko, who won a prize in the Harvest Home competition, and who requested a Berena Romeo and Juliet AU, with some casting specified. This has been a real gift of a prompt, and I have done ridiculous things with it. Somebody ought to stage an intervention. Or a production, I'm not sure which.
> 
> Hope you like it, pal!

**Dramatis Personnae**

Hanssen, _CEO of Holby City Hospital_  
Arthur, _mentored by Hanssen, and Bernie’s friend_  
Gaskell, _a professor_  
Meena, _Gaskell’s PA_  
  
Jac Naylor, _Head of Capulet Ward_  
Serena, _Consultant on Capulet_  
Frieda Petrenko, _Capulet Registrar_  
Fletch, _a nurse on Capulet, and Serena’s confidant_  
  
Sacha Levy, _Head of Montague Ward_  
Bernie, _Consultant on Montague_  
Dominic, _Montague Registrar and friend of Bernie and Arthur_  
Lofty, _a nurse on Montague_  
  
Lexi, _an HR officer_  
Morven, _an HR assistant_  
Imelda Cousins, _a legal secretary_

* * *

 

**Prologue**

Two heads of ward, alike in expertise,  
   In fairest Holby, where we lay our scene,  
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
   Where doctors’ blood makes colleagues’ hands unclean.  
Despite the warring words of these two foes  
   Two star-cross’d surgeons join for life:  
Whose misadventured amorous joys and woes  
   Do with their love bury their bosses’ strife.  
The fearful passage of their stress-mark’d love,  
   And the continuance of their bosses’ rage,  
Which, but these surgeons’ end, nought could remove,  
   Is now the fifty turnings of our page;  
The which if you with patient eyes attend,  
   What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

* * *

 

**Act 1**

**Scene 1: A corridor between wards, Holby City Hospital**  
_Several nurses from Montague ward are gossiping_

Montague nurse:  
Anyway I says to him, I'm not your lackey,  
Do it yourself - if you’re going to take the piss,  
You might as well take the bedpan too! Oh, look -   
There’s that cow from Capulet, giving it all that again.  
I’m going to flick her the vees - watch this.

_Montague nurse flicks vees_

Capulet nurse:  
Are you flicking the vees at me?

Mon. nurse:  
Well, I’m flicking the vees…

Cap. nurse:  
You flicking them at me, though?

Mon. nurse [ _to Second Montague nurse_ ]:  
Should I say yes? Will I get into trouble with HR?

Second Mon. nurse:  
No! Don’t say it’s at them! Naylor’ll have yer!

Mon. nurse [ _to Cap nurse_ ]:  
I’m flicking the vees, but not at you.

Cap. nurse:  
Are you having a laugh?

Mon. nurse:  
Does it look like I’m laughing?

Cap. nurse:  
Come on then, if you think you’re hard enough!

_They fight. Enter Dominic Copeland_

Dom:  
Oh, ladies, please! Your claws are showing - stop!

 _He comes between them, trying to break the fight up_  
_Enter Frieda Petrenko_

Petrenko:  
What’s this, now - get your hands off her, you fop!

Dom:  
Well, Freaky Frieda - colour me surprised.  
You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, you know -  
your nurses went for mine, not the reverse.

Petrenko:  
Come here and say that, ‘Dominic the Brave.’

Dom:  
You’re calling me a coward? Ooh, you witch!  
I should have known - you’re just Jac Naylor’s bitch.

 _They fight - a full hissy-fit handbags-at-dawn slapdown_  
_Enter Sacha and Jac, from opposite ends of the corridor_

Sacha:  
Petrenko! Get your hands off Dominic!

Jac:  
Oh look, here’s Daddy Bear to save your skin -  
I might have known you couldn’t hold your own  
Against a bunch of women - such a wuss.

_Enter Hanssen_

Hanssen:  
Not this again! I’ve told you several times:  
you get involved in brawling on the ward,  
you stand to lose your jobs, your whole career.  
The third time in - at most - as many weeks!  
It will not do - this feud has got to stop.  
Miss Naylor, come - I’ll hear your story first:  
Then Sacha, please, at three this afternoon.

_Exeunt all but Sacha and Dominic_

Sacha:  
What happened, Dom? What started it this time?

Dom:  
Our nurses, blowing off some steam at theirs.  
I tried to come between them, but then who  
Should turn up uninvited but that goth  
They call Petrenko - with the stupid hair.

Sacha:  
Was Bernie Wolfe involved? I didn’t see her there…

Dom:  
Ms Wolfe? I haven’t seen her yet today,  
Though usually if she’s not on the ward,  
She’s moping on the roof, having a fag,  
But stubs it out as soon as I come near,  
And scarpers well before I get a chance  
To ask her what’s the matter.

Sacha:  
                                                Yes, I know.  
I’ve noticed that she does that lots these days,  
And skulks around the car park on her breaks,  
Her hoodie knotted close about her neck,  
Hands thrust in pockets like a moody teen.  
But when I ask what’s wrong, if she’s okay,  
She simply shrugs and sighs, then walks away.  
Find out what’s going on, why she’s so glum -  
If nothing else, it seems she needs a chum  
To bring her out of this perpetual gloom.

Dom:  
Shush! There she is, in the consultants’ room.  
I’ll try and spend some time with her today,  
Find out what’s wrong.

_Exit Sacha. Enter Bernie_

Dom:  
                                      Hi, Bernie - lovely day!

Bernie:  
I hadn’t noticed. Every day seems dull  
Unless she smiles at me - she never does.  
I might as well be dead for all she cares,  
Invisible, or just not here at all.

Dom:  
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere - I can see  
The way things are - is Bernie Wolfe in love?  
So who’s the lucky lady? Could it be  
A pretty nurse? That physio we met  
On Tuesday, or - I know - that girl  
Who works at Pulses, with the cool tattoo?

Bernie:  
A girl? Oh, no: a woman, fierce and proud,  
A quiff of silver, legs as long as mine,  
Dress sense to die for, but for all I pine,  
Roxanna’s love to me is not allowed.

Dom:  
That’s not a name I know - don’t think we’ve met.  
Where does she work?

Bernie:  
                                     Alas, on Capulet.

Dom:  
Oh, Bernie, can’t you find some other love  
That isn’t controversial, or won’t get  
You into trouble with the boss? God’s sake -  
You just can’t date a doc from Capulet!

Bernie:  
It’s her for me, now let that be an end.  
Roxanna’s everything I’ll ever need.

Dom:  
It’s time to look elsewhere for love, my friend,  
This won’t end well - you’ll make my poor heart bleed.

 

 **Scene ii: A table at Albies**  
_Jac Naylor and Professor Gaskell are plotting at a table_

Jac:  
But Montague’s as deep in shit as us,  
We’re both to mend our ways or else he says  
The funding that he’d earmarked for our wards  
Will be disbursed in various different ways.

Gaskell:  
You’ve both been long enough in this old game  
to know the rules, to play things by the book.  
It ought to be a cinch to cool things down  
And keep that fish called funding on the hook.  
But tell me, have you thought again  
About the offer we discussed last night?

Jac:  
I have, but I’m not sure it’s right for her -  
Serena hasn’t been with us for long.  
Can it not wait?

Gaskell:  
                           I’d rather have her now:  
My research trial is ready to begin,  
And she’s the best for vascular we’ve got.  
Her help could make my name - and hers.  
She’ll start tomorrow, if she just concurs.

Jac:  
I’ll tell you what. We’re meeting here tonight,  
All Capulets, for a ‘team-building drink’  
(It’s Hanssen’s plan, not mine - he thinks  
We need to tell the team to put things right  
With Montague, but first to ‘have some fun’).  
So come along and sound her out yourself.  
And see if she thinks you could be the one  
To help her - or she’ll leave you on the shelf.  
I’ve given invitations to a man -  
A porter, Jason is his name - to post  
In corridors in Capulet alone  
To say that all should come tonight at eight  
Come along as well and make quite sure  
To see Serena - try not to be late.

 **Scene iib: A corridor between Montague and Capulet**  
_Jason has a sheaf of posters and is looking for somewhere to put them up_

Jason:  
I wish I knew where one ward ends and where  
The other one begins.

_Enter Dom and Bernie_

Jason:

                                    Excuse me, please,  
Is this bit Capulet? Or Montague?  
I’ve got to put these posters up before  
Tonight, or else I’ll prob’ly lose my job,  
The way Ms Naylor looked - she frightens me.

Dom:  
Let’s have a look - oh, drinks tonight at eight?  
“All Capulets, be there and don’t be late”  
That sounds like Naylor - invite with a threat.  
Sounds like a drag - but tell you what, I bet  
Your Ms McMillan will be there - as well  
As plenty of alternatives. Let’s go  
And see if we can’t find a better match  
For you than your Roxanna, that crosspatch.

 

 **Scene iii: Operating theatre on Capulet**  
_Jac and Serena are hands deep in a body cavity. Fletch hands them instruments_

Jac:  
You know Professor Gaskell, Hanssen’s friend?  
Would you consider working next to him  
On his new trial? I think he’s going to ask  
If you’d be int’rested - maybe tonight.

Fletch:  
Cor blimey, Jac, she’s only been here days!  
Give her a chance to work out what she wants  
To do on Capulet before she has  
To think of leaving for another job!

Jac:  
Thanks Fletch, I wasn’t asking you. Now pass  
The prolene - not the oh point two, you oaf!  
The oh point four - for god’s sake, use your loaf  
Or shove your stupid head back up your arse.  
Serena - sorry - this is what we have  
To bear on Capulet - can’t get the staff.  
Won’t blame you if you do decide to work  
With Gaskell - it might even be a laugh.  
The option’s there - it’s really quite a find.  
Meet him tonight and then make up your mind.

Serena:  
Tonight? It’s early days for me to move.  
I wouldn't rule it out, a transfer or  
Perhaps secondment to another ward,  
But I'm not making any promises.  
I like it here, and it would have to be  
Somebody special to poach littl’old me!

 

 **Scene iv: Outside Albie’s**  
_Bernie, Dominic and their friend, Arthur, wait outside the Capulet team event_

Bernie:  
I’m not sure this is such a good idea…

Dom:  
Come on, and brace yourself - man up! Let’s go.

Arthur:  
You don’t know if Roxanna’s even queer!

Bernie:  
The sea is full of other fish - I know.  
You’ve made it clear I’ve really got to go:  
All right, I’ll go and see who’s there, okay.  
But just to look - I’m not planning to stay.  
But is it wise? You’re sure we won’t get done?

Dom:  
Live for the moment - come, on let’s have fun!

_They enter the party_

 

 **Scene v: Inside Albies, at the Capulet team building event**  
_All Capulet staff are present. Jac addresses them_

Jac:  
Try to have fun, it’s mandatory tonight  
The karaoke’s on, the drinks are free -  
At least, the bar is open for a while  
‘Til Hanssen’s hundred quid or two runs dry.

 _Enter Bernie, who catches sight of Serena_  
  
Bernie [ _to a waiter]_ :  
Who’s that with Jac? My height - a little less -  
Brunette, and with a smile to blind the sun?

Waiter:  
Dunno - my shift has only just begun.

Bernie:  
She’s gorgeous! She makes all the rest look plain.

Petrenko:  
I know that voice - those Montagues again!  
Jac - have you seen who’s here? I’ll have her barred  
From Albie’s, and from theatre as well!

Jac:  
Petrenko, will you just calm down - it’s fine.

Petrenko:  
How is it fine when she’s from Montague?  
It’s that big macho army medic, Wolfe!

Jac:  
Well, never mind, she’s not the worst of them.  
In fact, I wouldn’t mind her on my team.  
And anyway, you know what Hanssen said:  
Just one more fight and we’ll lose all our dosh.  
So just play nice and count to ten or so,  
Or go and give your face a good cold wash  
And take that look off it - go on now, go!

Petrenko:  
All right, don't get your knickers in a twist.  
[ _Aside_ ] But Bernie Wolfe’s not heard the end of this

_Exit Petrenko_

Bernie:  
I’m sorry if I’ve got the wrong idea,  
But something tells me that you might be queer?  
Forgive me if you’re not, or if I’m wrong,  
Or if I’m simply coming on too strong.

Serena:  
Well, you don’t waste your words much, or your time!  
That usually work for you? No, no - it’s fine,  
I didn’t mind - I like it strong and hot.  
In fact - what other chat up lines’ve you got?

Bernie:  
I’m more an action woman, truth be told.  
Oh, look - let me - there’s something on your lip -

_Bernie kisses Serena. Thoroughly._

Serena:  
I say, you’re really rather good at that.  
“Serena Campbell: lesbian.” Oh flip!

Fletch [ _to Serena_ ]:  
Your manager would like a word with you.

Bernie:  
Her manager? Who’s that - who is her boss?

Fletch:  
Jac Naylor, head of Capulet.

Bernie:  
                                             Oh, shit.  
She works on Capulet? That’s that - I’m stuffed.

Dom:  
Come on, we’re going, this has been a bust.

Jac:  
Going so soon? Boo, shame - well, if you must.  
It’s over anyway, they’ve just called time -  
Go on, piss off, go home and get some sleep.  
No matter what ungodly hours you keep  
I want you all back on the ward at nine.

_Exeunt all but Serena and Fletch_

Serena:  
Look, who was that, the woman in the jeans  
That must have been sprayed on? Those legs - that voice -  
That glorious messy hair, and most of all  
Those lips - and on a woman who’s so tall!

Fletch:  
Some surgeon off of Montague, the one  
That used to be an army Major once.

Serena:  
On Montague? You're joking - awks-town, babe.  
Ms Naylor’s got it in for them, I’ve heard.  
I’ve fallen fast and deep, alas! Come on -  
We’d better go - but look, please - not a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we are. I’ve gone mad.


	2. The Book of The Film: Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this as the York notes to _Starcross'd Surgeons_ , or what you will. It's the same story, taken measure for measure - if there are any major differences, it's all much ado about nothing. As you like it, really.

Two heads of ward, alike in expertise,  
   In fairest Holby, where we lay our scene,  
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
   Where doctors’ blood makes colleagues’ hands unclean.  
Despite the warring words of these two foes  
   Two star-cross’d surgeons join for life:  
Whose misadventured amorous joys and woes  
   Do with their love bury their bosses’ strife.  
The fearful passage of their stress-mark’d love,  
   And the continuance of their bosses’ rage,  
Which, but these surgeons’ end, nought could remove,  
   Is now the fifty turnings of our page;  
The which if you with patient eyes attend,  
   What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

***

“Ladies, please! What _is_ going on here?”

Dominic Copeland, newly promoted to Registrar on Montague ward, strode into the corridor just in time to see the row that had been escalating between the nurses descending into an all-out brawl.

He waded in, coming between the nurses of his own and Capulet wards, who seemed intent on having an out-and-out cat fight right there in the corridor. The two wards had long been at odds with one another, and lately things had been escalating into all out war. Dominic was anxious to nip this quarrel in the bud, but no sooner had he laid hands on an obstreperous nurse than he heard the unmistakeable tones of his opposite number on Capulet.

“Get your hands off her, pretty boy!”

He rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Well, Freaky Frieda - colour me surprised. You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, you know - your nurses went for mine, not the other way round.”

Frieda Petrenko snarled, as much as a thick layer of white foundation and dried-blood-red lipstick would allow.

“Come here and say that, ‘Dominic the Brave.’”

Dominic saw red - the dried-blood red of her painted fingernails.

“You’re calling me a coward? You’re one to talk - you’re just Jac Naylor’s bitch!”

And with that, Mr Copeland engaged in a full hissy-fit handbags-at-dawn slapdown with Ms Petrenko of Capulet ward, who gave as good as she got. But before either party could break a fingernail, the stentorian bellow of Montague’s lead consultant, Sacha Levy rang through the corridor.

“Petrenko! Get your hands off Dominic!”

His cry brought Jac Naylor, Capulet’s clinical lead and star surgeon, striding out of her office and along to where Sacha now stood between the rival registrars. Her mocking tones taunted Dominic mercilessly.

“Oh look, here’s Daddy Bear to save your skin. I might have known you couldn’t hold your own against a bunch of women - what a wuss.”

Even as Mr Levy struggled to hold Dominic back, he took a step closer to loom over Ms Naylor, trying to use his superior height and bulk to intimidate her - which might have worked had he not been wearing a Bermuda shirt patterned with cartoon penguins. From behind them came the smart clip of perfectly polished brogues, and the controlled anger of CEO Henrik Hanssen was unleashed upon them.

“Not this again! I’ve told you several times: you get involved in brawling on the ward, you stand to lose your jobs, your whole career. The third time in - at most - as many weeks! It will not do - this feud has got to stop. Miss Naylor, come - I’ll hear your story first: then Sacha, please, at three this afternoon.”

His shoulders slumping as he watched Hanssen march an unrepentant Jac Naylor away, followed by her Capulet coterie, Sacha turned to his registrar.

“What happened, Dom? What started it this time?”

Dominic held up his hands in a gesture that was half placatory, half resignation.

“Our nurses, blowing off some steam at theirs. I tried to come between them, but then who should turn up uninvited but Petrenko, wading in like she owns the place.”

“Was Bernie involved? I didn’t see her there…”

Dominic was surprised at the suggestion.

“Ms Wolfe? I haven’t seen her yet today, though usually if she’s not on the ward, she’s moping on the roof, having a fag, but as soon as I ask her what’s up, she stubs it out and scarpers - I can’t get anywhere near her.”

Sacha nodded.

“Yes, I know. I’ve noticed that as well, and if she’s not on the roof, she’s skulking around the car park like a moody teenager, hoody and all. But try and ask her what’s wrong, if she’s okay, she just shrugs it off and walks off. Look, Dom - see if you can find out what’s going on, why she’s so fed up - if nothing else, it seems like she needs a friend at the moment, hey?”

Dominic nodded, then put a warning hand to his boss’s arm and muttered, “Speak of the devil. Don’t look round, but she’s in the consultants’ room. I’ll try and spend some time with her today, find out what’s wrong.”

Sacha nodded his agreement, and made haste to leave his young charge to it. Bernie barely seemed to notice Dominic, let alone the great shambling figure of the head of ward, and Dom did his best to break through her moping in his brightest, cheeriest voice.

“Hi, Bernie - nice day for it!”

The tall, striking figure, with her tousled head of blonde hair looked up at him in surprise from the desk she had been leaning over.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” she said without enthusiasm. “Every day seems dull unless she smiles at me - but she never does. I might as well not be here at all for all she cares.”

His face cleared in understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. I get it - is Bernie Wolfe in love?” His voice had a teasing sing-song note, but there was kindness and empathy behind it. Her hangdog look told him he’d hit the nail on the head.

“So - who’s the lucky lady? Could it be… a pretty nurse? That physio we met on Tuesday? Or - I know - that girl who works at Pulses, with the cool tattoo?”

Bernie shook her head vehemently. “A girl? No - she’s all woman - amazing hair, legs that go on forever, dress sense to die for, but however hard I try and get close to her, Roxanna doesn’t even know I exist.”

Dominic frowned a puzzled little frown.

“That’s not a name I know - don’t think we’ve met. Where does she work?”

Bernie sighed. “On Capulet, more’s the pity.”

His face softened in sympathy.

“Oh, Bernie, can’t you find someone else? Someone a bit less…controversial? For goodness’s sake - you just can’t date someone from Capulet - it’ll end it tears, you know!”

Bernie set her face stubbornly and shook her head, her golden hair tumbling around her face.

“Roxanna McMillan’s everything I’ve ever wanted - it’s her or no-one for me now.”

Dominic shook his head with a sigh, and put a hand on her sleeve. As gently as he could, he told her, “It’s time to let it go and look further afield for love, my friend. This won’t end well - you take my word for it.”

***

Meanwhile, at a table in an alcove at Albie’s bar, Jac Naylor was deep in conversation with Professor John Gaskell. Describing the ugly scenes in the corridor earlier, she bemoaned the trouble it had got them all into with the CEO.

“But Montague’s as deep in shit as us - we’re both to mend our ways, or else he says the funding that he’d earmarked for both wards will be disbursed to other projects.”

Gaskell looked at her knowingly.

“You’ve both been long enough in this game to know the rules you’ve got to play it by the book, Jac. It ought to be easy enough to cool things down and keep the funding on the hook. But tell me, have you thought again about the offer we discussed last night?”

With a sigh, Jac said, “I have, but I’m not sure it’s right for her - Serena hasn’t been with us for long. Can it not wait?”

“I’d rather have her now: my research trial is ready to begin, and she’s the best for vascular we’ve got. Her help could really make my name - and hers, too. It’s not all about me!” He added, unconvincingly. “She could start tomorrow, if she’d agree to it.”

Jac looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment, and relented a little.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re meeting here tonight, everyone from Capulet, for a ‘team-building drink.’ It’s Hanssen’s idea, not mine - he says we need to tell the team in no uncertain terms to put things right with Montague, but first to ‘have some fun.’”

Naylor wasn't the type to make air quote gestures, but they could be heard quite clearly in her scornful tone.

“Come along and sound her out yourself if you like, see if she thinks it’s right for her. I’ve given a bunch of posters to one of the porters - Jason, is it? - to put up in the Capulet corridors with the details of the party. It's mandatory - everyone should be there by eight. Come along as well and make sure you catch see Serena - try not to be late.”

***

On the long corridor between the two wards, where all the trouble had started earlier that day, the aforementioned porter, Jason Haynes, was struggling to know exactly where he should put the posters. On seeing Dominic and Bernie, he brightened up a little.

“I wish I knew where one ward ends and where the other one begins. Excuse me, please, is this bit Capulet or Montague? I’ve got to put these posters up before tonight, or I think I might lose my job, the way Ms Naylor looked - she really frightens me.”

Dominic moved in for a closer look at the poster.

“Let’s have a look - oh, drinks tonight at eight? _All Capulet staff, be there or be unemployed_. That sounds like Naylor - a threat disguised as an invitation.” He turned to Bernie. “Sounds like a total drag - but tell you what, I bet your Ms McMillan will be there - as well as plenty of alternatives. Let’s go and see if we can’t find a better match for you than the elusive Roxanna.”

***

That same afternoon found Jac and Serena together in theatre, hands deep in a body cavity and ably assisted by Nurse Fletcher.

As she stitched, Jac murmured to Serena, “You know Professor Gaskell, Hanssen’s friend? He’s asked if you’d consider working with him on his new trial. I think he’s going to ask if you’d be interested - maybe at the team building thing tonight.”

Fletch burst out, “Cor blimey, Jac, she’s only been here days! Give her a chance to work out what she wants to do on Capulet before she has to think of leaving for another job!”

“Thanks Fletch, I wasn’t asking you. Just pass the prolene - not that one! - for god’s sake, use your loaf. Serena - sorry - this is what we have to bear on Capulet - can’t get the staff these days. I wouldn’t blame you if you do decide to work with Gaskell - you’d have better facilities and funding. The option’s there - it’s really quite n opportunity. Meet him tonight and then make up your mind.”

Serena looked up from her work, surprised at the turn conversation had taken.

“Tonight? Oh, I don’t know - it’s early days for me to think about moving on. I wouldn't rule it out altogether, you understand, perhaps as a secondment, but I'm not making any promises. I like it here, and it would have to be somebody special to poach little old me!”

She smiled, and looking back down at her patient, got back to the job in hand.

***

Later that evening, Bernie, Dominic and their friend Arthur made their way to Albie’s as they often did after a shift, but rather than heading straight to the bar as usual, they slunk round to the back door and the stairs leading up to the function room, where the Capulet team event was taking place.

Bernie shifted from foot to foot. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea…”

Dom rolled his eyes. “Come on, brace yourself - man up! Let’s go.”

Arthur, who was sceptical about the whole enterprise, reminded Bernie, “You don’t know if Roxanna’s even gay, or bi, or whatever. And there are plenty of women here who’d be more than happy to oblige - you’re quite the catch, you know…”

“The sea is full of other fish - I know. You’ve made it clear I’ve got to go to this thing: all right, I’ll go and see who’s there, okay. But just to look - I’m not planning to stay long. You’re sure we won’t get done if we get found out?”

Dominic hustled the two of them through the door and practically pushed them up the stairs. “Live for the moment - come, on let’s have some fun for once!”

Lurking at the back of the function room behind a cluster of potted palms, they arrived just in time to hear Jac Naylor’s less than enthusiastic exhortation to her team to enjoy the evening.

“Try to have fun, it’s mandatory tonight. The karaoke’s on, the drinks are free - at least, the bar’s open for a while until you drink your way through what Hanssen’s put towards it.”

Bernie was peering through the leaves of the potted plants, trying to catch a glimpse of Roxanna, but her attention was grabbed by a devastatingly attractive woman who was now in conversation with Naylor. She caught the sleeve of a passing nurse.

“Who’s that with Jac? My height - a bit shorter, perhaps - brunette, amazing smile?”

He shrugged. “Dunno - I’ve not been here long.”

Bernie gazed in wonder at the vision of beauty, all thoughts of Roxanna fled. “She’s gorgeous! She makes all the other women look positively plain.”

Enthralled as she was, Bernie had forgotten that they were there undercover, and her voice reached the sharp ears of Frieda Petrenko.

“I know that voice - those bloody Montagues again! Jac - have you seen who’s here? We should have her barred!”

Jac dismissed her concerns. “Petrenko, will you just calm down - it’s fine.”

“How is it fine when she’s from Montague? It’s that jumped up trauma surgeon, Wolfe!”

Jac tried to calm her down, anxious to avoid further trouble between the wards today.

“Well, never mind, she’s not the worst of them. In fact,” she mused, “I wouldn’t mind her on my team. And anyway, you know what Hanssen said: just one more fight and we’ll lose all our dosh. So just play nice - count to ten or whatever you need to do to keep your calm - oh, take that look off your face! Go on, hop it.”

“All right, don't get your knickers in a twist,” Frieda grumbled. But as she turned away, she muttered under her breath, “But Wolfe’s not heard the end of this.”

Seeing from Jac’s reaction that their presence was going to be at least tolerated if not actively welcomed, Bernie slipped through the throng until she stood beside the woman she had noticed before. She cleared her throat, and spoke a little tentatively.

“I’m sorry if I’ve got the wrong idea, but something tells me that you might, uh, enjoy the company of a like-minded woman? I’m sorry if I’m wrong, or if I’m coming on too strong, but - gosh! I do think you’re smashing,” she blustered.

Serena looked her up and down, amused, but very definitely pleased with what she saw.

“Well, you don’t waste your words much, or your time! No, no - it’s fine, I didn’t mind - I like it strong and hot. In fact - keep talking!”

Bernie smiled and looked at her slyly from behind her long fringe, and explained, “I’m more an action woman, truth be told. Oh, look - let me - there’s something on your lip -” and she lifted a hand as though to brush the offending crumb away, only to lean in at the last moment and kiss it away instead.

As they broke apart, Serena fanned herself in appreciation of Bernie’s skills. “I say, you’re really rather good at that.” She caught sight of her own reflection in the window, and as though trying the words on for size, she murmured, “ _Serena Campbell: lesbian_. Crikey!”

Whatever might have happened next was curtailed as Fletch came up to them and said abruptly to Serena, “Your manager would like a word with you.”

Watching in dismay as Serena reluctantly left, Bernie asked, “Her manager? Who’s that - who is her boss?”

Fletch looked at her as though she were stupid. “Jac Naylor, head of Capulet,” he said in a tone that made the implied obviously unnecessary.

Bernie, who for some reason had not fully understood the implications of the fact that this was a Capulet party, let out a little cry of dismay.

“Oh, shit. She works on Capulet? That’s that - I’m stuffed.”

Just then, Dom and Arthur, who had not had the same luck as Bernie, came up and took her by the arm, propelling her to the door. “Come on, we’re going, this has been a bust.”

Seeing them leaving, Jac called after them. “Going so soon? Boo, shame - well, if you must. It’s over anyway, they’ve just called time.” She raised her voice, calling over the hubbub to her own team. “Go on, piss off, go home and get some sleep. No matter what ungodly hours you keep, I want you all back on the ward at nine.”

Grumbling, the assembled crowd of medics, nurses and assorted hangers on finished their drinks and shuffled off, though it was clear that some were planing to go on elsewhere. Eventually, only Serena was left, still in something of a daze from her encounter with Bernie. Her daydreams were interrupted by Fletch, who realising he had left his jacket behind, had snuck back up the stairs.

Serena shook herself out of her reverie, and demanded, “Look, who was that, the woman in the sprayed-on jeans? Those legs - that voice - that glorious messy hair, and most of all those lips!”

Fletch, knowing trouble when he saw it, broke the news to her without fanfare. “Don’t know her name, but she’s some flash trauma surgeon from Montague.”

Serena’s hand went to the pendant at her throat. “On Montague? You're joking - awks-town, babe. Ms Naylor’s got it in for them, I’ve heard. But - oh, I’ve fallen fast and deep!” She shook herself from her reverie and made a shooing gesture at him. “Come on - you’d better go - but look, please - not a word.”

Fletch, seeing which way the wind was blowing and knowing there was little he could do about it, simply made the age old sign of locking an invisible padlock at his lips, tossed the imaginary key away and walked Serena back to the hospital.


	3. The Lost Folio: Act II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the lovers meet and promise themselves to one another, a challenge is made, and a contract is signed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Odd chapters are in verse, even chapters in prose. To quote the Bard, gotta catch ‘em all!

Her crush on cruel Roxanna so declined,  
   And new affection now to be its heir;  
That fair for which love growl’d for and would whine,  
   With our Serena match’d, is now not fair.  
Now Bernie is beloved and loves again,  
   Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,  
But to her foe supposed she must complain,  
   And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks:  
Being held a foe, she may not have access  
   To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;  
Serena, too, in love, her means much less  
   To meet her new-beloved any where:  
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet  
   Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

 

* * *

 

**Scene i: In the peace garden**

_Bernie has just arrived and is getting her breath back_

Bernie:  
I know it’s late: I really should go home,  
But I won’t sleep until we meet again.

 _Exit Bernie, running to the ambulance bay and inside the hospital_  
_Enter Dominic and Arthur, running_

Dom:  
Bernie? Ms Wolfe - Bernie!

Arthur:  
I think she’s buggered off and gone to bed.

Dom:  
No, no - she ran this way, and then went over there:  
I think she went inside the hospital.  
Give her a call - I must have lost my phone.

Arthur:  
It’s gone to voicemail - I’ll just leave a - Bernie!  
Hi, it’s Arthur here, we wondered where you were?  
Call me when you get this - or call Dom.  
Night night! There - happy now? Can we go home?

Dom:  
You’re sure she’s gone? I don’t think we should leave  
Her on her own until we know she’s safe.

Arthur:  
You do know she was in the army, right?  
I heard she knows of thirteen ways to kill,  
And that’s just using nothing but bare hands:  
And love’s made her invincible, as well -  
You’ve seen the way she pines after that bird,  
Roxanna, with the quiff and tiny skirts.  
And even if she gets herself beat up  
By Capulets - it’s only love that hurts.

Dom:  
Oh, shush, she’d be embarrassed if she heard  
You making fun of her - give her a break.  
Not only that, she’d be so pissed off, too -  
And making Bernie pissed off’s a mistake  
That I’m not going to attempt tonight.  
Come on, let’s go.

Arthur:  
                              You spoilsport! All right.

 

**Scene ii: A corridor on Capulet ward**

_Bernie is wandering along the corridor looking for Serena_

Bernie:  
One day they’ll understand, the callous pups.  
But wait - who’s left a light on over there?  
The operating theatre on the left?  
Serena! Scrubs of burgundy, and cap  
Of leopard print - my God! She’s gorgeous - oh,  
I’ve got to get to know her - hush, she speaks!

Serena:  
Oh fuck.

Bernie:  
               That voice again! It makes me feel  
All strange inside! Say something else, so I  
Can know what’s going on inside your mind.

Serena:  
Oh, Bernie, Bernie - Montague! - fuck’s sake!  
Of all the wards in this whole hospital,  
It has to be the one that Naylor hates!  
Why can’t you work on Capulet instead?  
Or I’ll transfer to Montague, perhaps?  
It’s just a name - a ward - we surely all  
Work for the same old poxy PCT?

_Bernie switches on the theatre intercom_

Bernie:  
You really mean that? Truly? Count me in!  
I’d love to work with you - I hear you’re good,  
And vascular’s a skill goes well with mine.  
We’ll work together well in other ways,  
That kiss was really something! Once again?

Serena:  
Sweet Jesus! Who the fiddly fuck is that?  
Oh! Bernie Wolfe - it’s you again - hel-lo!  
How come you’re here? Keep quiet and don’t get caught:  
Petrenko’s on the warpath - she’ll go nuts  
If she should find you here: she’s sworn to get  
You fired if you come near the place again.

Bernie:  
She doesn’t frighten me - I’ve seen much worse  
Way back when I was in Afghanistan.

Serena:  
Big macho army medic, are we now?  
Still, keep out of her way at any rate.

Bernie:  
I will. I'm tough - I’m bloody tough, but still  
I’ll tread with care and keep my profile low.  
But soon we’ll meet and get to satisfy  
Our undeniable sexual chemistry.

_Fletch calls from the nurses’ station_

Serena:  
Someone’s here. I’d better see what’s up.  
I’m coming, Fletch - look, Bernie, wait right there:  
I’m coming back.

_Exit Serena_

Bernie:  
                              Not going anywhere!  
If it’s a dream, don't wake me up - I’ve found  
The hottest woman here for miles around,  
Not only that - she actually fancies me!  
We’ll work and play together - what a team!

_Enter Serena_

Serena:  
I’ve got to go - there’s too much going on.  
These night shifts always get like this somehow.  
Meet me tomorrow?

Bernie:  
                                  Name the time and place!

Serena:  
Look, if you really mean it, here’s my plan.  
I know this woman, Lexi, in HR:  
Go talk to her and sort the contracts out.

Fletch:  
Serena!

Serena:  
              What? - But Bernie, are you sure?  
Please don’t mess me around unless you mean  
To follow through - I warn you, go on - swear!

Fletch:  
Ms Campbell!

Serena:  
                      What! I said I’m coming, Fletch!  
I carry grudges to the grave, so don’t  
Give me a reason to call you a wretch.

Bernie:  
I won’t! I’ll talk to Lexi, get it all signed off.  
Good night - I’ll let you go, but don’t forget  
Your days are nearly over here on Capulet!  
We’ll get you onto Montague all right.

Serena:  
Can’t wait! Good night, then Bernie Wolfe - good night!

 

**Scene iii: an office in HR**

_Lexi Morrell is at her desk sifting through paperwork_

Lexi:  
This stupid internecine war between  
The wards will be the death of me some day:  
Their disciplinaries and grievances;  
Their carping over who said what to whom.  
If they’d just work together for a while  
Or try secondments on each other's wards,  
They’d see they’re working to a common end:  
Not break each others’ heads, but patients’ mend.

_Enter Bernie_

Bernie:  
Lexi? Hi.

Lexi:  
               Who’s that? Ms Wolfe, hello!  
You’re early for your shift - unless you’re still  
Up from last night’s?

Bernie:  
                                   That’s sort of true.  
Serena Campbell sent me here to see  
If you can draw up something to allow  
Collaboration of a sort between us -  
Me and her, to work together - and  
I need to register - to make sure it’s done right -  
Our workplace-based relationship - I’m sure  
You’ve got a form for that?

Lexi:  
                                            I have, but wait -  
You’re being rather hasty, don’t you think?  
What happened with Roxanna? Last I heard,  
She was your all, your everything - you’re sure  
You’re going to last the course this time?

Bernie:  
Roxanna who? Oh, her - no, she’s old news.  
Serena Campbell, she’s the one for me.

Lexi:  
I’ll do it - it’s high risk, but might just mean  
An end to all the bickering we’ve seen  
Between Jac Naylor and her erstwhile friend,  
Then Montague v Capulet might end.  
Come at three thirty, and make sure you bring  
Ms Campbell, too - then we’ll sort everything.

  
**Scene iv: Montague staff room**

_Dom and Arthur are sharing a plate of biscuits_

Dom:  
Petrenko’s written a letter of complaint.  
She says she’ll send it unless Bernie Wolfe  
Agrees to fight it out between the two:  
Arm-wrestling’s her forte, so they say -  
Apparently, an old Ukrainian way  
To settle most disputes and arguments.

Arthur:  
Then Bernie’s stuffed - she’s such a skinny thing,  
And Freaky Frieda’s made of fucking nails.  
What’s more, poor Bernie’s off her game, because  
She daydreams of Roxanna all the time.  
Still, write another letter in return,  
If Bernie wins, we’ll send it to HR,  
Then Frieda’s job is forfeit, not Ms Wolfe’s,  
We’ll play it her way - see who wins the day.  
Here’s Bernie.

_Enter Bernie_

Dom:  
                       Bernie! Where were you last night?  
We looked for you, but you just disappeared.

Bernie:  
Sorry boys, had other plans last night,  
Somewhere to be: somebody else to see.

Arthur:  
Aye aye, the gallant major is in love!  
Shot through the heart - but who has fired the shot?

Bernie:  
Not shot, but fallen gladly at her feet.  
You never saw a smile so bright, so sweet.

_Enter Fletch_

Fletch:  
Which one of you young bucks is Bernie Wolfe?

Dom:  
That’s Bernie there, half-leaning on the desk.

_Exeunt Dom and Arthur_

Fletch:  
[ _Aside_ ]  
Cor blimey, not quite what I had in mind!  
I see the attraction, mind - but quite a risk  
To date a surgeon based on Montague  
When Frieda’s fighting mad (still, no change there).

  
[ _To Bernie_ ]  
Oi - Bernie Wolfe, I need a word with you:  
Serena needs to know if you’re for real.  
If not - if you’re just stringing her along -  
Quit now, before it goes tits up - soz - wrong.

Bernie:  
Never more serious, pal - you’ve seen her, right?  
Tell her she needs to go up to HR  
This afternoon, three thirty on the dot,  
To sign a contract, and to sign the form  
Declaring that we’re girlfriends - partners - wives,  
From this day forward, for our natural lives.

Fletch:  
[ _Aside_ ]  
It’s true, then, what they say, that lesbians  
Move quickly - and by move, they mean to say  
Move in together, into the same place -

  
[ _To Bernie_ ]  
Just treat her better than potato face.

Bernie:  
Potato face?

Fletch:  
                     Oh, sorry - different fic.  
I’ll take your message, tell her double quick.

_Exit Fletch_

 

**Scene v: Capulet locker room**

Serena:  
Oh, come on, Fletch, what’s taking all this time?  
Perhaps I should send Jason, too - but no.  
It’s his day off - I s’pose I’ll have to wait.  
Oh - there you are! Fletch why are you so late?  
And what’s that sorry look about - don’t say  
She’s given up already? Gone away?

Fletch:  
No no, it’s my lumbago giving me some gip.  
I went to see my chiro yesterday -  
She gave me all these squats and lifts to do,  
It’s made it worse, I swear -

Serena:  
                                             Oh Fletch,  
Forget all that for now - just tell me plain:  
How long until I see her face again?

Fletch:  
Oh yeah, the major - sorry, I forgot,  
What with this pain - it goes right up my back  
And down my legs, it’s like a knife -

Serena:  
You'll tell me, Mr Fletcher, if you rate your life  
Important - what did Bernie have to say?

Fletch:  
To go and see that Lexi in HR.  
Was it at three? No, definitely half past.

Serena looks at her watch

Serena:  
Three twentyeight! I’d better get there, fast!

_Exit Serena - fast_

 

**Scene vi: Lexi’s office**

_Bernie is leaning against Lexi's desk_

Lexi:  
You’re going ahead, then? Good! I’ve got the forms  
All ready for your signature, and hers.  
It's just Ms Campbell that we’re waiting for.

Bernie:  
She’ll be here soon - at least, I hope she will:  
Cant’ wait to take her home and -

Lexi:  
                                                       Hold that thought.  
You’ve really thought this through, this partnership?  
It’s not just lust, but really love - you’re sure?  
Professional admiration, too, I hope?  
If this goes wrong, there’s so much paperwork.

Bernie:  
I married someone who I didn’t love;  
Then risked my post, indeed my whole career,  
By shagging someone else I didn’t love.  
This time I’m sure: it causes so much pain,  
I’ll never make the same mistake again.  
Serena makes me feel so different, though,  
We’ll last forever, me and her - I know.

_Enter Serena_

Lexi:  
Here she comes! Serena - have a seat.  
I'm really glad you’ve both agreed to meet  
Today to sign the forms: My hope is that  
You’ll both be happy, and we’ll end the spat  
Between your wards - between your bosses, too.  
Sign here - and here - again, please? And we’re through.  
Congratulations, ladies: there we are -  
A copy for you each, one for HR.


	4. The Book Of The Film: Chapter 2

On leaving the party at Albie’s, Bernie had run on ahead of Dominic and Arthur, flying on the wings of love back to the hospital. She stood now in the Peace Garden, deliberating over her best course of action.

 _It’s late_ , she thought. _I should go home, but I know I won’t sleep until I see her again_.

And then she was off again, running over to the ambulance bay and inside the hospital. Hardly had the doors slid closed behind her when Dominic and Arthur pulled up in front of Wyvern Wing, huffing and panting from running to try and catch up with her.

“Bernie? Ms Wolfe - Bernie!” Dominic called, looking round wildly for her. 

His hands on his knees as he struggled to regain his breath, Arthur shook his head “I think she’s buggered off and gone to bed.”

Dominic shook his head vehemently and looked round wildly. “No, no - she ran this way, and then went over there: I think she went inside the hospital. Try calling her mobile.”

With a sigh, Arthur pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. 

“It’s gone to voicemail - I’ll just leave a - Bernie! Hi, it’s Arthur here, we wondered where you were? Call me when you get this - or call Dom. Night night!” He turned to Dom. “There - happy now? Can we go home?”

“You’re sure she’s gone?” Dominic sounded anxious. “I don’t think we should leave her on her own until we know she’s safe.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You do know she was in the army, right? I heard she knows thirteen ways to kill with her bare hands alone. And love’s made her invincible, as well - you’ve seen the way she pines after that bird, Roxanna, with the quiff and tiny skirts. And even if she gets herself beaten up by Capulets - it’s only love that hurts.” He fluttered his eyelashes and clasped his hands together like the heroine of a silent movie.

Flapping ineffectually at him, Dom chided him. “Oh, shush, she’d be so embarrassed if she heard you making fun of her - give her a break. Not only that, she’d be pissed off, too - and making Bernie pissed off’s a mistake that I’m not going to make tonight. Come on, let’s go.”

“Spoilsport! All right.” And off the two friends tottered drunkenly into the night, leaving Bernie to fend for herself.

***

Bernie herself, unbeknownst to them, had overheard the exchange, and shook her head pityingly as she made her way into the corridors inside. They were young: perhaps they would learn about the hardships of love in time.

“One day they’ll understand, the callous pups. But wait - who’s left a light on over there? The operating theatre on the left?” Craning her neck to see who was working so late on Capulet, she let out a soft gasp as she recognised - “Serena! Burgundy scrubs, leopard print cap - my God! She’s gorgeous - oh, I’ve got to get to know her - shh, she’s talking!”

Serena was indeed speaking, and in no uncertain terms.

“Oh fuck.”

Bernie sighed like a lovestruck teenager, melting at the rich and velvety tones. “That voice again! It makes me feel all strange inside! Say something else, so I know what you’re thinking about,” she muttered fervidly.

Oblivious to Bernie’s presence, Serena murmured to herself, her voice audible via the theatre’s intercom system as she paced to and fro, restless fingers worrying at the pendant at her throat.

“Oh, Bernie, Bernie - Montague! - fuck’s sake! Of all the wards in this whole hospital, it has to be the one that Naylor hates! Why can’t you work on Capulet instead? Or could I transfer to Montague, perhaps? What’s in the name of a ward - surely we all work for the same old poxy PCT?”

Unable to restrain herself any longer, Bernie pressed and held the button that switched on the theatre intercom from the outside.

“You really mean that? Truly? Count me in! I’d love to work with you - I hear you’re good, and vascular goes well with trauma. We’d work together well in… _other_ ways,” she added, her eyebrows waggling suggestively. “That kiss was really something! Once again?” Her voice was hopeful as she pressed her nose to the glass between them, but Serena was too shocked to appreciate the offer at first.

“Sweet Jesus! Who the fiddly fuck is that? Oh! Bernie Wolfe - it’s you again - hel-lo! How come you’re here?” Without giving Bernie time to respond, she glanced anxiously up and down the corridor through the theatre windows. “Keep quiet and don’t get caught: Petrenko’s on the warpath - she’ll go nuts if she finds you here: she’s sworn to get you fired if you come near the place again.”

Bernie made a noise that was intended to convey scorn, though in fact it sounded not like a horse huffing air through its lips. “She doesn’t frighten me - I’ve seen much worse way back when I was in Afghanistan,” she said nonchalantly.

Serena smirked. “Big macho army medic, are we now?” But her face fell remembering how viciously Frieda had sworn to have revenge on Bernie for the perceived slight. “Still, keep out of her way if you can.”

Bernie casually flicked her long fringe out of her eyes, though it fell straight back into place.

“I will. I'm tough - I’m bloody tough, but still I’ll tread carefully and keep my head down. But you and I, Serena - there’s no getting away from our undeniable sexual chemistry.” Her voice was low and full of promise.

Serena sighed and gravitated towards her, hands reaching out as though she could pass them though the window to take Bernie’s own. They both jumped as they heard a voice call from the nurses’ station.

Serena whispered, “Someone’s here. I’d better see what’s up - _I’m coming, Fletch!_ \- look, Bernie, wait right there: I’m coming back.”

Serena scurried off through the other door to keep Nurse Fletcher away from theatre, and Bernie leaned against the window, a sleepily satisfied smile on her face.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she sighed happily. “If this is a dream, don't wake me up - I’ve found the hottest woman in the NHS - and she actually fancies me! We’ll work _and_ play together - what a team!”

Serena bustled back into the operating theatre. 

“I’ve got to go - there’s too much going on. These night shifts always get like this somehow. Meet me tomorrow?”

Bernie beamed. “Name the time and place!”

Serena pinned her with a serious gaze.

“Look, if you really mean it, here’s my plan. I know this woman, Lexi, in HR: go talk to her and sort the contracts out.”

Fletch called for Serena again. ” _What?_ \- But - Bernie, are you sure? Please don’t mess me around unless you mean to follow through - I warn you, go on - swear!” Fletch interrupted again with another call for his boss. “ _What! I said I’m coming, Fletch!_ ” She turned her attention back to Bernie, a deadly serious look on her beautiful face. “I carry grudges to the grave, so don’t give me a reason to bear one against you.”

Bernie made the age old gesture of crossing her heart with a finger.

“I won’t! I’ll talk to Lexi, get it all signed off. Good night - I’ll let you go, but don’t forget your Capulet days are numbered now! We’ll get you onto Montague all right.”

Serena’s smile was as blinding as a thousand theatre lamps, and she impulsively kissed the glass that came between them, leaving a faint print of her lips. Bernie touched a finger to the other side of the glass in a daze, as Serena whirled away from her and out to the main ward.

“Can’t wait! Good night, then Bernie Wolfe - good night!”

***

The following morning, Chief Human Resources Officer Lexi Morrell stomped about her office, furiously rifling through the paperwork that the previous day’s troubles had generated, and grumbling to herself about the parlous state of affairs between the staff on Montague and Capulet wards.

“This stupid internecine war between the wards will be the death of me some day: their disciplinaries and grievances; their carping over who said what to whom - if they’d just work _together_ for a while, or try secondments on each other's wards, they’d see they’re working to a common end: not to break each others’ heads, but to heal patients!”

Her bad-tempered musings were interrupted by a knock, and a tousled head popped round the door.

“Lexi? Hi.”

Lexi looked up sharply, but relaxed on seeing the surgeon, for whom she had always had something of a soft spot.

“Who’s that? Ms Wolfe, hello! You’re early for your shift - unless you’re still up from last night’s?”

Bernie shoved her hands deep in her pockets and gave a little shrug.

“That’s sort of true. Serena Campbell sent me here to see if you can draw up something to allow collaboration of a sort between us - me and her, to work together - and I need to register - to make sure it’s done right - our workplace-based relationship - I’m sure you’ve got a form for that?”

Lexi’s eyebrows rose as much in concern as in surprise once she had managed to decipher Bernie’s mumbled ramblings.

“I have, but wait - you’re being rather hasty, don’t you think? What happened with Roxanna? Last I heard, she was your all, your everything - you’re sure you’re going to last the course this time?”

A look of genuine confusion on her handsome face, Bernie replied, “Roxanna who? Oh, her - no, she’s old news. Serena Campbell, she’s the one for me.”

Lexi glanced at her shrewdly, and reading the open honesty she saw there, she capitulated.

“I’ll do it - it’s high risk, but might just mean an end to all the bickering we’ve seen between Jac Naylor and her former friend: then Montague versus Capulet might finally come to an end. Come at three thirty, and make sure you bring Ms Campbell, too - then we’ll sort everything out.”

***

But while things in HR were looking up, downstairs on Montague there were thunderclouds on the horizon, as Dominic explained to Arthur.

“Petrenko’s written a letter of complaint. She says she’ll send it unless Bernie Wolfe agrees to fight it out between the two of them: arm-wrestling, if you can believe it - apparently it’s a traditional Ukrainian way to settle disputes and arguments.”

Arthur gave a low whistle.

“Then Bernie’s stuffed - she’s such a skinny thing, and Freaky Frieda’s made of fucking nails. What’s more, Bernie’s off her game - she can’t focus on anything for daydreaming about Roxanna all the time. Still, we’d better accept the challenge and write a letter of our own: if Bernie wins, we’ll send it to HR, then Frieda’s job is forfeit, not hers. We’ll play it her way - see who wins the day. Oh - here’s Bernie.”

But Dominic had already seen her, and had pounced on her almost before she was through the door. “Bernie! Where were you last night? We looked for you, but you just disappeared.”

Bernie smiled cockily, hands still in her pockets in her trademark slouch.“Sorry boys, had other plans last night, somewhere to be: somebody else to see.”

Arthur caught the self-satisfied tone in her voice. “Aye aye, our plan worked - the gallant major is in love! Shot through the heart - but who has fired the shot?”

Leaning against a desk, Bernie’s smile lost its prideful look and took on a dreamy aspect instead. “Not shot, but fallen gladly at her feet. You never saw such a smile!” Before they had a chance to quiz her further, a timid knock at the door was followed by the worried face of Nurse Fletcher.

“Which one of you young bucks is Bernie Wolfe?”

Dominic nodded towards his friend. “That’s Bernie there, propping up the desk.” And seeing the lovelorn look on Bernie’s face, he gave another nod to Arthur, and the pair tactfully withdrew.

Under his breath, Fletch muttered, “Cor blimey, not quite what I had in mind! I see the attraction, mind - but quite a risk to date a surgeon based on Montague when Frieda’s fighting mad (still, no change there).” Clearing his throat, he addressed Bernie.

“Oi - Bernie Wolfe, I need a word with you: Serena needs to know if you’re for real. If not - if you’re just stringing her along - quit now, before it goes tits up - soz - wrong.”

Bernie shook her head emphatically, an incredulous look on her face. 

“Never more serious, pal - you’ve seen her, right? Tell her she needs to go up to HR this afternoon, three thirty on the dot, to sign a contract, and to sign the form declaring that we’re girlfriends - partners - wives, from this day forward, for our natural lives.”

Fletch made a harrumphing sound that could just about be construed as a laugh. “It’s true, then, what they say, that lesbians move quickly - and by move, they mean to say move in together. Look - just make sure you treat her better than Potato Face,” he added menacingly.

“Potato Face?”

“Long story - never mind. I’ll take your message double quick.”

***

Serena sat nervously in the locker room on Capulet ward, anxiously waiting word from Bernie.

“Oh, come _on_ , Fletch, what’s taking all this time? Perhaps I should send Jason, too - but no. It’s his day off - I suppose I’ll have to wait. Oh - there you are! Fletch why are you so _late?_ And what’s that sorry look about - don’t say she’s given up already? Gone away?”

Fletch, who had indeed been grimacing like a man bearing the worst possible news, shook his head, and he winced as his hand went to the small of his back.

“No no, it’s my lumbago giving me some gip. I went to see my chiro yesterday - she gave me all these squats and lifts to do, it’s made it worse, I swear -”

Serena cut across his grumbling. “Oh Fletch, forget all that for now - just tell me plainly: when can I see Bernie again?”

“Oh yeah, the major - sorry, I forgot, what with this pain - it goes right up my back and down my legs, it’s like a knife -”

Serena’s patience was wearing very thin. “You'll tell me, Mr Fletcher, if you value your life - what did Bernie have to say?”

And as though he hadn’t been wasting time and keeping her on tenterhooks, Fletch replied smoothly, “To go and see that Lexi in HR. Was it at three? No, definitely half past.”

Serena looked at her watch, making a little sound of exasperation. “Three twenty eight! I’d better get there, fast!” And her word was as good as her deed. Fletch was left looking on baffled, as the door swung to and fro in her wake.

***

Lexi looked up and smiled as Bernie strode confidently into her office with what could only be described as a bold lesbian swagger.

“You’re going ahead, then? Good! I’ve got the forms all ready for both your signatures. It's just Ms Campbell that we’re waiting for now.”

Bernie was confident. “She’ll be here soon - at least, I hope she will: I can’t wait to take her home and -”

“Hold that thought,” Lexi interrupted, not only squeamish about whatever Bernie had been about to say, but also wanting to be sure that Bernie was making an informed decision. “You’ve really thought this through, this partnership? It’s not just lust, but really love - you’re sure? Professional admiration, too, I hope? If this goes wrong, there’s _so_ much paperwork.”

Her feathers a little ruffled, Bernie was initially defensive, but explained, “I married someone who I didn’t love; then risked my post, in fact my whole career, by shagging someone else I didn’t love. This time I’m sure: it causes so much heartache for everyone: I’ll never make that mistake again. Serena makes me feel so different, though, we’ll last forever, me and her - I just know it, somehow.”

She sounded so earnest, and looked so wonderfully happy, that Lexi knew this was indeed the real deal, but before she could respond, the click-clack of heels along the corridor outside announced the arrival of the lady in question, and welcoming her in, Lexi exclaimed, “Here she comes! Serena - have a seat. I'm really glad you’ve both agreed to meet today to sign the forms. My hope is that you’ll both be happy, and we’ll end the spat between your wards - between your bosses, too.” She pushed the form across to the two of them. “Sign here - and here - again, please? And we’re through. Congratulations, ladies: there we are - a copy for you each, one for HR.”

And as simply as that, Serena and Bernie were now officially partners in work and in love.


	5. The Lost Folio: Act III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two duels are fought, a banishment is decreed, and a Professor plots.

**Scene i: Pulses Café**  
_Enter Dominic and Arthur_

Dominic:  
Oh God, it’s hot today: I’ll have a Venti  
Frappuccino - that’s the large size, right?  
The Capulets are on the lam, I’ve heard:  
We’d best avoid them if we can - they’re nuts.

Arthur:  
You always say that, then you take the piss  
Out of them when you see them - every time!

Dominic:  
I don’t!

Arthur:  
             You bloody do - you know you do!

Dominic:  
Oh look, here comes Petrenko!

Arthur:  
                                                 Fuck - you're right.

_Enter Frieda and her followers._

Petrenko:  
Hey, you - I want a word with you. You know  
Where Bernie Wolfe is?

Arthur:  
                                     Oh, not this again.  
Can you just not, for once? It’s getting old.

Petrenko:  
I know you hang around with her!

Arthur:  
                                                     I don’t,  
No more than Dominic, or any other here.

Dominic:  
Can we just drop this? Stop making a scene.  
Go somewhere quiet - here, behind this screen.  
It’s out of shot, and everybody knows  
That cotton screens are soundproof on these shows.

Petrenko:  
Forget it - never mind, she’s here now, anyway.

_Enter Bernie_

Petrenko:  
Hey, Wolfe - come here - you got my memo, then?  
You’ll pay for crashing our team building thing  
The other night. Sit down - right here, we’ll sort  
This out in the Ukrainian way - two hands  
In opposition clench’d, and try to bring  
Each other down, to touch the table top.

Bernie:  
I’ve got no fight with you, nor any Capulet,  
In fact it’s quite the opposite, you know.

Petrenko:  
Well, maybe not - but I’ve got one with you.  
Sit down, you coward!

Arthur:  
                                   All right - I’ll fight with you,  
If you want to fight.

Bernie:  
                                For goodness’ sake -  
You know that Hanssen’s banned this stupid game.  
I’m sorry Frieda - yes, I know that it’s  
Your national sport, but surgeons need their hands  
And wrists undamaged to perform their jobs.

Petrenko:  
Screw that! Come here, then, Digby - sit, and put  
Your elbow on the table - that’s it. Go!

_They arm wrestle, the balance going first one way, then the other. Arthur is stronger, but Petrenko is dirtier. She twists his wrist and pushes his hand to the table, and he stands up clutching his arm._

Arthur:  
A plague on both your wards - she’s broke my arm!

Bernie:  
Dom, get him to orthopaedics, stat!

_Exit Dominic with Arthur_

Bernie:  
Love’s made me femme just when I should be butch:  
I should have wrestled Frieda, sure enough.  
Now Arthur’s hurt and cannot wield a knife,  
Or suture as he should - his job’s at risk!

_Enter Dominic_

Bernie:  
Dom - what news of Arthur? How’s his arm?

Dominic:  
A humeral shaft break - and Hanssen knows,  
He’s fired him on the spot for taking risks.

Bernie:  
Arthur, fired! It’s all my fault - but no,  
Petrenko made the challenge - she’s to blame!  
Here she comes again - I’ll take her on  
This time, play her at her own deadly game.

_Enter Petrenko_

Bernie:  
All right then Frieda, sit yourself back down:  
You haven’t finished here by a long shot.  
Arthur’s arm is broken - but mine’s fine,  
So take my hand and show me what you’ve got.  
You might think you’re the best at what you do -  
But don’t forget, I’ve been to Kiev, too!

_They arm wrestle. After a brief tussle and some disturbingly intense eye contact, Bernie smashes Petrenko’s hand to the table. Dominic examines her hand._

Dominic:  
Three metacarpal phalangeal joints  
Are smashed - she’ll never operate again.  
She’ll lose her job for sure - can’t say I mind -  
But Hanssen’s going to hit the fucking roof.  
That’s probably the best place for you now -  
Bernie, go up to the roof until it’s safe;  
I’ll find you there once Hanssen has calmed down.

_Exit Bernie_  
_Enter Hanssen with Jac and Sacha_

Hanssen:  
I’d like an explanation, Mr Copeland,  
Please, how Mr Digby’s arm got hurt  
So badly that I’ve had to let him go!

Dominic:  
Petrenko challenged Bernie to a fight:  
Ukrainian-style - apparently it’s a thing -  
But Bernie tried to make the peace with her,  
So Frieda challenged Arthur in her place.  
Then Arthur - silly sod - sat down and fought -  
And lost. But Frieda’s had her just desserts,  
For Bernie took her on, and now she’s hurt  
As least as bad as poor old Diggers was.

Jac:  
He works with Bernie, so he’s bound to take  
Her side: It can’t be true that Bernie Wolfe -  
One woman - conquered her alone: they must  
Have held Petrenko down and duffed her up  
Together, for she’s never lost before!

Hanssen:  
Ah, but Bernie Wolfe was forged in war.  
Her army training must have kicked right in.

Jac:  
The psycho! Sack her now, she’ll pay the price  
For losing me my registrar today.

Sacha:  
She’s Arthur’s friend, of course she had to show  
Petrenko that she can’t behave like that.  
She’s saved HR a job by getting rid  
Of someone who should never have been here.

Hanssen:  
All right - I’ve heard enough from both of you.  
I’ve lost two surgeons in one dreadful day:  
I will not lose a third, but there must be  
A period of cooling down, and so  
I’ll put her on indefinite gardening leave.

 

**Scene ii: Capulet staff room**

_Serena stirs a cup of coffee over and over without drinking it._

Serena:  
Can’t wait until the end of this long shift:  
Then Bernie’s taking me to eat - a date! -  
Italian, she says, and best of all,  
A wine list as extensive as my love.  
Then back to hers or mine, so I deduct:  
I don’t care which as long as I get - Fletch!  
Hello! What news? Is Bernie coming soon?

_Enter Fletch_

Fletch:  
If it’s news you want, I’ve got the lot.  
I’ll try to get this right - it’s quite the plot.  
Dr Digby’s fired for taking risks;  
Petrenko’s fired, for breaking Digby’s arm.  
Bernie’s on extended gardening leave  
For causing Frieda’s hand irreparable harm.

Serena:  
Bernie, hurt Petrenko? - surely not!  
She’s mild as korma (though five times as hot).  
But gardening leave? So she can’t come to work?  
We’re supposed to work together now - the berk!

Fletch:  
Serena - please don’t get upset - look, wait:  
I’ll go and find her, say you’re in a state  
And need to talk to her. She’s gone up to HR -  
I’ll go and find her there - it ain’t too far.

Serena:  
Nurse Fletcher - take my pendant now, and find her,  
If she’s forgotten how I love - remind her.

_Exit Fletch with Serena’s pendant._

 

**Scene iii: Lexi’s office in HR**

_Lexi rolls her eyes as she hears Bernie skulking outside_

Lexi:  
I know you’re out there, Bernie - come on in.  
I thought you’d come to see me. Please, sit down.

_Enter Bernie_

Bernie:  
You’ve heard from Hanssen? What’s he got to say?  
Struck off? Fired? Demoted to F1?

Lexi:  
Calm down - it’s not that bad, though bad enough:  
Indefinite gardening leave while things calm down,

Bernie:  
In other words suspended - Jesus wept!  
It’s worse than getting fired: at least that way  
I’d know just where I stood, but now I'm stuck  
Without Serena - no Serena! Damn!  
What about our contract: does that stand?

Lexi:  
It will, I think, if all else goes to plan.  
No more heroics, though, you understand?

Bernie:  
I do! One day I’ll say those words to her -  
Weren’t you a chaplain once? We’ll invite you  
To hear our vows when all of this is through.

_Enter Fletch_

Fletch:  
Here, ‘scuse me, Lexi, have you seen Ms Wolfe?  
Serena’s sent me out to look for her,  
I thought she might be here - oh, there you are!

Bernie:  
How is she, Fletch? Tell me she’s bearing up,  
Not blaming me for getting Frieda fired?  
(She asked for it, the psycho, by the way.)

Fletch:  
She’s freaking out a bit, to tell the truth,  
And shocked that Frieda’s been kicked out of here.

Bernie:  
Stupid, stupid coward that I am!  
I should have nipped all this right in the bud:  
Confronted Frieda when she looked for me  
And marched her to HR to have it out.  
Instead, Serena’s weeping over her,  
And maybe me as well - that’s it, I quit!

_Bernie reaches for a resignation form and goes to sign it, but Lexi stops her_

Lexi:  
Oh, knock it off - don’t be so extra, Wolfe!  
No need to hand your notice in just yet.  
You get Petrenko fired, then fire yourself?  
That makes no sense at all, as you well know.  
She had it coming, like you said before,  
And she did try to get you fired as well -  
So all is fair in love, war and HR.  
You say you love Serena? Well, then, stay  
And make things right with Hanssen, by and by,  
When Jac’s calmed down and Sacha’s off her case.  
We’ll tell them all about the contract then,  
And you’ll come back from gardening leave again.  
Look - Fletch, go back and tell Ms Campbell now  
That Bernie’s going to come to say goodbye.  
Burn some toast to get the staff room clear,  
Then they can meet in there with no real fear.

Fletch:  
You're good this, you know? She’s good, eh, Bern?  
All right, I’m off - oh, here, she gave me this  
To give to you - a token of her love.

_Fletch gives her the pendant, then exits_

Bernie:  
I have to say, that’s given me a lift!

Lexi:  
Now go, before security change shifts!

_Exit Bernie_

 

**Scene iv: Jac’s office**

_Enter Jac and Gaskell_

Jac:  
Well, this is all a fucking nuisance, eh?  
It’s put a real spanner in the works.  
Serena got on well with Frieda - she’s upset,  
At least, I think that’s why she’s blue.  
She’s gone to sleep it off now, anyway:  
She’s in the on-call room, and sound asleep.  
I’ll talk to her tomorrow about your trial -  
I'm hoping she’ll see sense and jump at it  
And sign a contract saying she’ll work with you.

_Gaskell licks his lips like a lizard_

Gaskell:  
That will be most satisfactory.

[ _He speaks into his dictaphone_ ]

The subject’s been secured in all but name:  
The trial can proceed the usual way,  
With cover-ups and hiding evidence  
Just like I did in last week’s storyline.

Jac:  
Yeah, right, cause that’s not sinister at all.  
For god’s sake, Gaskell, try at least to fake  
Your status as a human - no-one’s fooled.  
I’ll tell Serena soon - I’m sure she’ll sign.

_Exit Gaskell, slithering_

 

 **Scene v: Capulet on call room**  
_Bernie and Serena are sitting on the edge of the bed. The alarm clock goes off_

Serena:  
Ignore the alarm, we’ll just hit snooze again.  
There’s loads of time before you need to go.

Bernie:  
I’d better go: I should have left last night,  
I’ll be in trouble if they know I’m here.

Serena:  
Just ten more minutes - surely that can’t hurt?  
I said before - I don’t want you to go!

Bernie:  
That’s what you don’t want - but I feel the same;  
I’ll stay and sod it if they catch me here -  
It’s worth my getting fired for one more kiss.

Serena:  
Fired? Oh, no! All right, you’d better go. 

_Enter Fletch, sticking his head round the door_

Fletch:  
Serena?

Serena:  
Fletch - what have you got to say?

Fletch:  
Best make it quick - Jac Naylor’s on her way.

_Exit Fletch_

Serena:  
You'd better scarper then, before she comes.

Bernie:  
All right, I'm going - but I’ll keep in touch.

Serena:  
Yes, send me texts - but leave the hashtags out.  
To be quite frank, they're “hashtag overdone.”  
Just - call me, text me every single day.

Bernie:  
I will - you’ll hardly know I’ve gone away.  
I’ve got to go - kiss me - again - one more?  
Mm, there we go - what on call rooms are for.  
Farewell, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

Serena, rolling her eyes:  
Just say goodbye - you've picked the wrong AU.

_Exit Bernie_

_Serena wipes her eyes. Enter Jac_

Jac:  
Oi, Campbell, what’s the matter with you now?  
Upset about Petrenko, I expect.  
Well, no use crying for spilled milk:  
Instead, cry that the one who hurt her, Wolfe,  
Is still around, not sacked as she should be,  
But on some cushy so-called gardening leave.  
Don’t worry, though - we’ll get her in the end,  
On some small technicality, my friend.

Serena:  
If anyone’s to get her sacked, it’s me

  
[ _Aside_ ]  
Get her _in_ the sack, more like, tee hee!

Jac:  
Enough of that for now - I’ve other news:  
Gaskell’s keen to get you on his team -  
The contract’s been drawn up, you'll sign today!

Serena:  
I bloody won’t! Whose daft idea was this?  
I’d rather work with Bernie Wolfe than him!

Jac:  
You’ll work with Gaskell if I say so, though!  
You were working as a registrar  
When I met you, and not so long ago:  
Don’t forget it’s me who put you here,  
Serena: I can put you back there, too.  
Don’t you want Professor Gaskell’s work?

Serena:  
I really don’t - I’d like my own career,  
Not hang off someone else’s faked ideas.

Jac:  
Ungrateful wretch! I’ll see you in HR.  
It’s all arranged, you sign your bloody name  
Or I’ll know why. I’ve sweated blood for this,  
To get you here, you’ll sign, or else you’ll leave  
Without a reference from me, you’ll see!

_Exit Jac_

Serena:  
That escalated quickly. What’s her beef?

Enter Fletch

Fletch:  
Was that Jac Naylor, giving you some grief?

_Enter Jac_

Jac:  
I heard that, Fletcher - you can fuck off, too!

_Exit Jac_

Fletch:  
Blimey, boss - I see your point - she’s nuts!  
She’s got a point, though - Bernie’s good as fired.  
You might as well just work with Gaskell now.

Serena:  
I’d sooner quit my job completely, Fletch,  
Than work with Lizardboy, that freak.

_She picks up the phone_

Lex? It’s me - I think we need to speak.


	6. The Book Of The Film: Chapter 3

Dominic fanned himself as he and Arthur moved steadily along the queue in Pulses café.

“Oh God, it’s hot today: I’ll have a venti frappuccino - that’s the large size, right?” He turned to Arthur as his drink was being made. “I’ve heard the Capulets are on the lam: we’d better avoid them if we can - they’re nuts.”

“You always say that, then you take the piss out of them when you see them and wind them up - every time!” Arthur scoffed.

“I don’t!”

“You bloody do - you know you do!”

Before they could any further into this familiar half-hearted argument, Dominic exclaimed, “Uh-oh - here comes Petrenko!”

Arthur turned to look over his shoulder, then whipped his head back round, a look of alarm on his pleasant face. “Fuck - you're right.”

For indeed, the fierce Ukrainian was muscling through the queue for coffee, accompanied by several of her Capulet hangers-on. She marched straight up to the young doctors and true to form, she didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Hey, you - I want a word with you. You know where Bernie Wolfe is?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh, not this again. Can you just not, for once? It’s getting old.”

Petrenko wasn’t to be put off so easily, and said, as though it were an accusation of the most heinous crime, “I know you hang around with her!”

Arthur bristled Dan his stance became defensive despite himself. “I don’t, no more than Dominic, or any other here.”

Dominic rolled his eyes at the whole ridiculous confrontation. “Can we just drop this? Stop making a scene. Why don’t we go somewhere a bit quieter - look, come round here, behind this screen.”

Sneering at the mealy-mouthed surgeons, Petrenko turned away. “Forget it - never mind, she’s here now, anyway.” She called over to Bernie, who had indeed just joined the queue. “Hey, Wolfe - come here - you got my memo, then? You’ll pay for crashing our team building thing the other night. Sit down - right here, we’ll sort this out in the Ukrainian way - You know how to arm-wrestle, right?”

Bernie demurred, her hands raised in a placatory gesture. “I’ve got no fight with you, or anyone on Capulet - quite the opposite, actually.”

But Frieda’s dander was up, and only one thing could lower it again. “You might not have a fight with me, but I’ve got one with you. Sit down, you coward!”

Bernie stood stubbornly in the queue, determined not to sink to Frieda’s level, but Arthur could stand Freida’s clucking chicken noises no longer, and stepped boldly into her personal space, declaring, “All right - _I’ll_ fight with you, if you want to fight.”

Her eyes widening in alarm, Bernie tried to come between them. “For goodness’s sake - you know that Hanssen’s banned this stupid game. I’m sorry Frieda - yes, I know that it’s your national sport, but we’re all surgeons, and we need our hands and wrists undamaged to do our jobs.”

Petrenko sneered at her, though it was hard to distinguish it from her usual expression. “Screw that! Come here, then, Digby - sit, and put your elbow on the table - that’s it. Go!”

They arm wrestled, the balance going first one way, then the other. Arthur was stronger, but Petrenko had the knowledge and wisdom of a thousand years of Ukrainian dominance in the sport, and she fought dirty, too. After a tussle, with a sudden motion she twisted his wrist, pushing his hand to the table, and he stood up clutching his arm with an anguished wail.

“A plague on both your wards - she’s broke my arm!”

Bernie stepped out from the queue, took one look at Arthur’s arm and barked, “Dom, get him to orthopaedics, stat!” She oversaw his transfer to a wheelchair, gave Ortho a quick call to let them know what they were dealing with, and watched as Dom carefully wheeled the chair to the lift.

“Love’s made me femme just when I should be butch!” She raged at herself. “I should have wrestled Frieda, sure enough. Now Arthur’s hurt and can’t hold a scalpel, or suture - his job’s at risk, and it’s my fault!”

There was a tense wait until Dominic reappeared, a solemn look on his face.

Bernie was first to break the silence. “Dom - what news of Arthur? How’s his arm?”

Dominic shook his head glumly. “A humeral shaft break - and Hanssen knows: he’s fired him on the spot for taking risks.”

Bernie was aghast. “Arthur, fired! It’s all my fault! - but no, Petrenko made the challenge - it’s _her_ fault! Here she comes again - I’ll take her on this time, play her at her own game.”

For indeed, Frieda was back at the table Bernie had made her own, and Bernie set her elbow very deliberately onto the table top.

“All right then Frieda, sit yourself back down: you haven’t finished here by a long shot. Arthur’s arm is broken - but mine’s fine, so take my hand and show me what you’ve got. You might think you’ve got the edge here - but don’t forget: I’ve been to Kiev, too!”

Frieda sat opposite the woman whom she had decided to make her Nemesis, and they locked hands and eyes. This was a more even match, for Bernie had evidently picked up some tricks of the trade during her secondment in Kiev, and after what seemed like an interminable deadlock, Bernie suddenly played the Odessa Gambit and smashed Petrenko’s scalpel hand to the formica table top.

Dominic’s examination of Frieda’s hand was astonishingly professional under the circumstances, though his bedside manner left something to be desired. “Three metacarpal phalangeal joints are smashed - she’ll never operate again. She’ll lose her job for sure - can’t say I mind - but Hanssen’s going to hit the fucking roof. Actually, that’s probably the best place for you now - Bernie, go up to the roof until it’s safe; I’ll find you there once Hanssen has calmed down.”

With a brief backwards glance at the Ukrainian (who seemed, if anything, to be enjoying the pain) Bernie left post haste. A scant few moments later, Hanssen swept into the café with Jac and Sacha both in tow. His temper, always slow to ignite but implacable once roused, was in full flow.

“I’d like an explanation, Mr Copeland, please, how Mr Digby’s arm got hurt so badly that I’ve had to let him go!”

Dom stuck his chin out pugnaciously, but he stuck to the facts as he saw them. “Petrenko challenged Bernie to a fight, Ukrainian-style - apparently it’s a thing - but Bernie tried to make the peace with her, so Frieda challenged _Arthur_ in her place. Then Arthur - silly sod - sat down and fought - and lost. But Frieda’s had her just desserts, for Bernie took her on, and now she’s hurt as least as bad as poor old Diggers was.”

Naylor, coldly furious as only she could be, drawled, “He works with Bernie, so he’s bound to take her side. You think one woman got the better of Petrenko on her own? They must have held her down and duffed her up together - she’s never lost before!”

A finger raised in admonition, Hanssen reminded her, “Ah, but Bernie Wolfe was forged in war. Her army training must have kicked straight in.”

“The psycho. Sack her! She’ll pay the price for losing me my registrar!”

Sacha leaped immediately to his protégée’s defence. “She’s Arthur’s friend, of course she had to show Petrenko that she can’t behave like that. She’s saved HR a job by getting rid of someone who should never have been here.”

Frustrated and impatient with his staff, Hanssen raised both hands in a gesture that put a stop to the squabbling. “All right - I’ve heard enough from both of you. I’ve lost two surgeons in one dreadful day: I will not lose a third, but there must be a cooling down period now, so I’ll put her on indefinite gardening leave.”

***

Unaware of the turn things had taken down in Pulses, Serena was bustling about the Capulet staff room to keep herself occupied while she waited for Bernie. She hummed and chatted to herself as she washed and dried the accumulated mugs and teaspoons, and tossed crisp packets and pizza cartons into the bin.

“Can’t wait until the end of this shift: Bernie’s taking me out to eat - a date! Italian, she says, and best of all, a wine list as extensive as my love. Then back to hers or mine: I don’t care which as long as I get - Fletch Hello! What’s the news? Is Bernie coming soon?”

Fully aware that he was the bearer of bad news, Fletch kept a wary distance from his volatile boss. “If it’s news you want, I’ve got the lot. I’ll try to get this right - it’s quite the story. Dr Digby’s fired for taking risks; Petrenko’s fired, for breaking Digby’s arm. Bernie’s on extended gardening leave for causing Frieda’s hand irreparable damage. Arm-wrestling - Frieda’s famous for it.”

Serena’s double take was almost comical.

“Bernie, hurt Petrenko - surely not! She’s mild as korma - though five times as hot!” She added with a leer. “But gardening leave? We’re supposed to be working together now - oh, the _berk!_ ”

Fletch, seeing that she wasn’t going to take it out on him, laid a calming hand on her arm. “Serena - please don’t get upset - look, wait: I’ll go and find her, say you’re in a state and need to talk to her. She’s gone up to HR - I’ll go and find her there - it ain’t too far.”

Nodding her thanks, Serena paused for a moment as she unclasped her necklace and pressed it into Fletch’s hand. “Nurse Fletcher - take my pendant and give it Bernie to remind her how much I love her.”

Fletch gripped her hand tightly for a second, then with a firm nod and a mock salute, he raced off to HR to find out what was going on.

***

At that very moment up in HR, Lexi heard the anxious shuffling of sensible trainers outside her office.

“I know you’re out there, Bernie - come on in. I thought you’d come to see me. Please, sit down.”

Bernie stepped inside the office sheepishly, wringing her hands together nervously.

“You’ve heard from Hanssen? What’s he got to say? Have I been struck off? Fired? Demoted to F1?”

“Calm down - it’s not that bad - though bad enough,” Lexi tried to soothe her. “Indefinite gardening leave while things calm down -”

But Bernie herself was anything but calm. “In other words suspended - Jesus wept! It’s worse than getting fired: at least that way I’d know just where I stood, but now I'm stuck without Serena - no Serena! Damn!” She thought for a moment. “What about our contract: does that stand?”

Lexi nodded. “It will, I think, if everything else goes to plan. No more heroics, though, you understand?”

“I do!” Bernie responded earnestly, then on catching the words she had used, a dreamy expression crossed her face. “One day I’ll say those very words to her - weren’t you a chaplain once? We’ll invite you to hear our vows when all of this is through!”

Fletch’s voice prevented Lexi’s reply, and he barrelled into the room without knocking.

“Here, ‘scuse me, Lexi, have you seen Ms Wolfe? Serena’s sent me out to look for her, I thought she might be here - oh, there you are!”

Bernie leapt to her feet and grabbed a fistful of his shirt in each hand. “How is she, Fletch? Tell me she’s bearing up, not blaming me for getting Frieda fired?” But in an aside to Lexi, she muttered, “She asked for it, the psycho, by the way.”

Carefully retrieving his shirt front from her clutches, Fletch admitted, “She’s freaking out a bit, to tell the truth, and shocked that Frieda’s been kicked out of here.”

Bernie clutched one hand dramatically to her forehead, denouncing herself.

“Stupid, stupid coward that I am! I should have nipped all this right in the bud and confronted Frieda when she was looking for me earlier, and marched her straight to HR to have it out. Instead, Serena’s probably crying her eyes out over her. Oh, what a mess! That’s it, I quit!” 

She lunged across Lexi’s desk, reaching for a pad of paper and a pen, and quickly scrawled something that, had it been remotely legible, might have passed as a resignation note, but before she could put her name to it, Lexi put her hand down firmly on hers and stopped her.

“Oh, knock it off - don’t be so extra, Wolfe! No need to hand your notice in just yet. You get Petrenko fired, then fire yourself? That makes no sense at all, as you well know. She had it coming, like you said before, and she _did_ try to get you fired as well - so all is fair in love, war and HR.”

She put the pen and paper to one side and sat Bernie down in the visitor’s chair, though Bernie being Bernie, she immediately stood again to lean against the desk.

“You say you love Serena?” Lexi asked her. “Well, then, stay and make things right with Hanssen, once Jac’s calmed down and Sacha’s got off her case. We’ll tell them all about the contract then, and you’ll come back from gardening leave. Look - Fletch, go back and tell Ms Campbell now that Bernie’s going to come to say goodbye.” Thinking quickly, she added, “Burn some toast to get the staff room clear, then they can meet in there with no-one interrupting them.”

Fletch looked at her in amazement. Such a trick had never occurred to him - or rather, it would never have occurred to him that Lexi might come up with it.

“You're good this, you know?” He said. “She’s good, eh, Bern? All right, I’m off - oh, here, she gave me this to give to you - a token of her love.” He handed her the pendant that Serena had entrusted him, and she gazed at it reverently, running the chain between her fingers. Fletch smiled at her, gave Lexi a wink, and set off back to Capulet to give Serena the latest news.

Bernie looked up at Lexi, her eyes shining. “I have to say, that’s given me a lift!”

Lexi smiled kindly at her, then shooed her out of the office.

“Now go, before security find you still on site!”

***

In the wet lab that Gaskell had built in the basement, Jac Naylor was venting her spleen to the man himself as he watched her, his eyes flickering.

“Well, this is all a fucking nuisance! It’s put a real spanner in the works. Serena got on well with Frieda - now she’s all upset: at least, I think that’s why she’s blue,” Jac huffed. “She’s gone to sleep it off now, anyway: she’s in the on-call room, and sound asleep. I’ll talk to her tomorrow about your trial - I'm hoping she’ll see sense and jump at it and sign the contract.”

Gaskell blinked rapidly and licked his lips, his tongue darting out as though to catch a fly.

“That will be most satisfactory.” He picked up his dictaphone, and pressing the record button, muttered, “The subject’s been secured in all but name: the trial can proceed the usual way, with cover-ups and hiding evidence as necessary, just as in previous iterations.”

Jac rolled her eyes so hard that it was little short of a miracle that they stayed in her head, but she had years of practice behind her.

“Yeah, right, cause that’s not sinister at all. For god’s sake, Gaskell, try at least to _pretend_ to be a human - no-one’s fooled.” She stood abruptly, making it clear that he was dismissed, for all that he was nominally her superior, and that they were in fact in his office. “I’ll tell Serena soon - I’m sure she’ll sign.”

Gaskell gave an odd little formal bow that made him look more than ever like an alien in a human suit, and backed out of the room with a sort of slither.

***

Early the next morning, the relative peace on Capulet was disturbed by the trill of an alarm clock from behind the closed blinds of the on call room, and a thump and a crash as hand was flung out to silence it.

“Ignore the alarm, we’ll just hit snooze again,” Serena groaned from beneath the covers of the single bed. “There’s loads of time before you need to go.”

Sitting up and running a hand through her spectacularly unkempt heair, Bernie smiled down at her, but said firmly, “I’d better go: I should have left last night, I’ll be in trouble if they know I’m here.”

“Just ten more minutes - surely that can’t hurt?” Serena grumbled. “I said before - I don’t want you to go!”

Bernie shook her head, her lips set in a firm line. “That’s what you _don’t_ want - but I feel the same; I’ll stay and sod it if they catch me here - it’s worth my getting fired for one more kiss.”

She leaned in to reignite the fire that had smouldered all night, but on hearing that particular F word, Serena sat up in alarm.

“Fired? Oh, no! All right, you’d better go.”

And as though on cue, Fletch chose that moment to stick his head round the door after a cursory knock. “Best make it quick - Jac Naylor’s on her way.”

Serena straightened her shoulders and passed Bernie her clothes, watching as she dressed hastily. “You'd better scarper then, before she comes.”

Bernie grinned at her as she tied her hoodie tightly under her chin. “All right, I'm going - but I’ll keep in touch,” she promised.

“Yes, text me, and send me pictures of every meal you eat - but leave the hashtags out. To be quite frank, they're ‘hashtag overdone.’” Serena shot back drily. But her expression softened as she fiddled with the cord of Bernie’s hoodie. “Just - call me, text me every single day?”

“I will,” Bernie promised. “You’ll hardly know I’ve gone away. I’ve got to go - kiss me - again - one more? Mm, there we go - that’s what on call rooms are for. Farewell, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!”

Serena rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you darling - just _goodbye_ will do.”

And with one last kiss, Bernie was gone. Not a moment too soon, as it transpired, for as Serena wiped her eyes, which had grown unaccountably misty, Jac Naylor strode into the on call room without so much as knocking.

“God, Campbell, what’s the matter with you now? Upset about Petrenko, I expect. Well, no use crying over spilled milk: instead, cry about the fact that the person who got her sacked hasn’t been sacked herself as she should have been, but is on some cushy so-called gardening leave. Don’t worry, though - we’ll get her in the end, on some stupid technicality if we have to.”

Serena bristled but bit her tongue, remembering that the plan was to let things blow over, and she brushed Jac’s comment off. “If anyone’s going to get her sacked, it’ll be me,” she said dismissively, but under her breath she couldn’t help adding, “Get her _in_ the sack, more like!” And she let out a little giggle despite herself.

“Enough of that for now,” Jac ploughed on. “I’ve other news: Gaskell’s keen to get you on his team - the contract’s been drawn up, you'll sign today!”

Startled and anxious at these tidings, Serena shot back, “I bloody won’t! Whose daft idea was this? I’d rather work with Bernie Wolfe than him!”

Jac narrowed her eyes, and her voice held a thinly veiled threat. “You’ll work with Gaskell if I say so, though! You were working as a registrar when I met you, and not so long ago: don’t forget it’s me who put you here, Serena: I can put you back there, too. Don’t you want Professor Gaskell’s work?”

Serena shook her head determinedly. “I really don’t - I’d like my own career, thank you, not to hang off someone else’s faked ideas.”

Jac may have chosen to describe herself as a strawberry blonde, but her reaction was all redhead.

“You ungrateful wretch! I’ll see you in HR. It’s all arranged, you’ll sign your bloody name or I’ll know why. I’ve sweated blood for this, to get you here: you’ll sign, or else you’ll leave without a reference from me, you’ll see!”

And as abruptly as she had entered, she was off, stalking down the corridor in high dudgeon.

Serena sighed and shook her head in despair and bewilderment. “That escalated quickly,” she muttered. “What’s her problem?”

From the nurses’s station, Fletch enquired helpfully, “Let me guess - Jac Naylor giving you grief?”

But Jac’s hearing was keener than he had allowed for, and her voice rang out, “I heard that, Fletcher - you can fuck off, too!”

Fletch hot-footed it into the on call room and shut the door behind him. “Blimey, boss - I see your point - she’s nuts! She’s got a point, though - Bernie’s good as fired. You might as well just work with Gaskell now.”

Looking miserable, Serena confessed, “I’d sooner quit my job completely, Fletch, than work with Lizardboy.”

She picked up the phone.

“Lexi? It’s me - I think we need to speak.”


	7. The Lost Folio: Act IV

**Scene i: Lexi’s office in HR**

_Gaskell leans over Lexi’s desk, just a little too close for comfort_

Lexi:  
This afternoon? It can’t be done, alas.  
I need a week’s full notice to transfer  
A surgeon from a ward - it’s not TV,  
Where people leave with no notice at all.  
Won’t someone please think of the admin staff?

Gaskell [ _sibilantly_ ]:  
Miss Naylor’s most insistent, I’m afraid.  
I’m sure you wouldn’t want to let her down?

Lexi:  
You haven’t even spoken to Ms Campbell yet!  
I won’t do anything unless she says.

Gaskell:  
She’s been upset about Petrenko’s hand,  
And losing her from Capulet, and so  
I haven’t wanted to approach her yet,  
But now I’m sure she’ll be content to join  
My team - I’ll cheer her up, you’ll see!  
Who wouldn’t want the chance to work with me?

Lexi:  
[ _Aside_ ]  
What, you want a list, you slimy snake?  
[ _To Gaskell_ ]  
Ah - here she is. Ask her, for goodness’ sake.

_Enter Serena_

Gaskell:  
Ms Campbell! My new colleague - how are things?

Serena:  
New colleague? News to me. All right, I s’pose,  
Unless you count Petrenko’s getting fired,  
Or being stalked by some weird lizard guy.

Gaskell:  
Such a sense of humour - what a card!

Serena:  
Wasn’t really joking; never mind.  
It’s Lexi that I’ve come to see, not you,  
To update details on my personal file.  
It’s confidential, so you’ll need to leave.

Gaskell:  
Of course, of course! Go on and change your file.  
You're changing it to say you'll work with me,  
No doubt: I’ll come back later, sign the form  
To say we’ll work together on my trial.

Serena:  
If that's what you want to think, I doubt  
I’ll change your mind with my outright denial.

Gaskell:  
That sounds like yes to me! I’ll go prepare  
The wet lab - what time shall I see you there?

Serena:  
How does never sound to you? I’m sure  
That you’ve got things to do - look, there’s the door.

_Exit Gaskell, cluelessly_

Serena:  
Oh, Lexi - what am I to do? I’ve signed  
To work with Bernie, only now to find  
She’s been suspended - well, on gardening leave:  
Now Jac and Gaskell can’t seem to believe  
That I’m so far averse to him that I  
Would rather quit than join his team - oh, why  
Did Bernie have to take Petrenko on?  
I thought we’d last forever: now she’s gone!

Lexi  
Hold your horses - I might have a plan  
To work around this sad recruitment mess.  
Are you prepared to quit, as you profess?

Serena:  
I’m that far pissed off now, I think I am!

Lexi:  
All right, I’ll put you both on gardening leave  
To keep your name on file, but we’ll deceive  
Your colleagues that you’ve left, then when the time  
Is right, you'll both come back together!

Serena:  
                                                            Fine.

Lexi:  
All right: go back to Capulet and say  
You’ll work with Gaskell - put them off the scent.  
I’ll get word to Bernie so she’ll know  
Your resignation’s not sincerely meant,  
But just a means to put the lizard off.

Serena:  
Thanks Lexi, you’ve been great - I won’t forget.

**Scene ii: Capulet ward**

_Enter Jac and Fletch_  
Jac:  
Serena’s gone to see HR, I hear?

Fletch:  
That’s right.

Jac:  
                   Let’s hope they've talked her into it.

Fletch:  
Looks like it might have done the trick - she’s here,  
And looking happier than she did before.

Jac:  
Serena. What’ve you got to say for yourself?

Serena:  
I’ve seen the error of my ways - that I  
Was so dead set against the lizard man,  
I couldn’t see the other benefits,  
Like making up the evidence to prove  
He’s better than the rest, just like he said -  
Even if it kills the patient dead.

Jac:  
That’s more like it. Fletcher - go and help  
Serena pack her stuff up from her office now.

**Scene iii: Serena’s office on Capulet**

_Enter Serena and Fletch_

Serena:  
You know Fletch, I’ll manage on my own.  
There’s not that much in here I need to do.

_Exit Fletch_

Serena:  
Right. Now where’s the frigging online form  
To hand my notice in? Or maybe I  
Should write it out longhand? That way HR  
Can simply lose the letter: otherwise,  
The system will retain a record of the plan,  
And get poor Lexi in the soup. All right.

_She writes_

Serena:  
Dear Henrik - Mr Hanssen, I should say,  
It’s with regret that I take pen in hand  
To tender up my notice from the ward  
That’s been my home for several months or more.  
I know Professor Gaskell thinks that I  
Should work with him, but truth be told,  
I’d rather saw my leg off, change my mind,  
Then try to stitch it back on with old rope  
Than work with someone in a human suit  
But underneath’s a lizard, green and vile.  
So thank you for the opportunities  
That this post has afforded me thus far,  
And know your correspondent truly is,  
Your good friend, Serena Campbell, Ms.

 

 **Scene iv: Capulet staff room**  
_Preparations are under way for the launch of the trial project. The tables are spread with plates of food under cling film: there are glasses of cheap fizz poured out ready, and a coffee urn is dripping.  
Enter Jac and Fletch. Jac inspects the tables._

Jac:  
What's going on? Have catering cocked up?  
No gluten free, no vegan options here -  
There’ll be complaints if allergens are found.  
And what’s this cheap and nasty cava for?  
We should have bought champagne, or none at all.

Fletch:  
Calm down Ms Naylor - everything looks fine.

Jac:  
Just go and get Serena now - it’s time.

_Exit Fletch._

 

**Scene v: Serena's office**

_Enter Fletch_

Fletch:  
Serena - hey, Ms Campbell - are you here?  
That’s funny - could have sworn I saw her come  
In here a while ago, but now she’s gone,  
And just this note upon her desk remains.  
Oh crikey - it’s addressed to Mr H!  
She must have changed her mind and jacked it in.  
Ms Naylor - Jac! - you’d better get in here.  
Serena’s been and gone and left, I think.

_Enter Jac, Lexi and Gaskell_

Lexi:  
Here we are, all ready to endorse  
The contract: Gaskell’s here, and Jac, of course -  
But where’s Serena? What’s that in your hand,  
Nurse Fletcher? Come on, everything’s been planned  
Down to the last detail, now all we need’s  
Serena’s signature - it’s all been long agreed.

Fletch:  
A spanner in the works, that’s what this is:  
Look, Mr Hanssen’s name is written here  
Upon this envelope in Serena’s hand -  
I guess the trial’s not quite what she planned!

Gaskell:  
Disaster! Tragedy! My trial project’s doomed!  
She would have been the perfect candidate,  
So gullible, so bidabble she seemed!  
She’d not have seen through my nefarious scheme.

Fletch:  
You haven't known Serena long, mate, eh?  
She saw through you and your reptilian ways.  
But now she’s gone, best boss I ever had,  
A blow for this old mockney East End lad!

Lexi:  
Professor Gaskell, could I have a word?  
Your working practices have come to light,  
And lost us a consultant - thanks for that.  
If anyone should quit, it should be you.

Jac:  
All this food and drink we’d ordered in  
To launch the project now will go to waste,  
Unless we call it Gaskell’s leaving do:  
It seems he isn’t long for this old place.  
I might have known his methods were all hokey -  
[ _she shrugs_ ]  
Well, might as well crank up the karaoke.

_The party continues, celebrating the potential departure of Gaskell instead of the project’s launch._


	8. The Book Of The Film: Chapter 4

Lexi Morrell had been immersed in a pile of paperwork, but she looked up sharply at Professor John Gaskell, a look of mild disbelief on her face at what she had just heard, and leaned back in her chair to avoid the faint damp miasma he exuded.

“This afternoon? It can’t be done, alas. I need a week’s full notice to transfer a surgeon from a ward - it’s not TV, where people leave with no notice at all. It would be nice if people around here would think of the admin staff now and then, you know!”

Gaskell smiled, his slightly webbed hands spread in an insincere gesture of apology, but explained sibilantly, “Miss Naylor’s most insistent, I’m afraid. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to let her down?”

Lexi looked at him sceptically. “You haven’t even spoken to Ms Campbell yet! I won’t do anything unless she says.”

The smile only slipping from his face a little, Gaskell prevaricated. “She’s been upset about losing Ms Petrenko, and I haven’t wanted to approach her while she’s… emotional, but now I’m sure she’ll be content to join my team - it will cheer her up, bring her out of herself. After all, who wouldn’t want the chance to work with me?”

Under her breath, Lexi muttered, “Do you want a list?” but aloud, she exclaimed, “Ah - here she is. You'd better ask her yourself.”

For indeed, Serena was standing in the doorway, looking with some suspicion at the scene before her. Smooth as anything, Gaskell approached her with a ready, if somewhat disconcerting, smile as he took her hand in a clammy grip.

“Ms Campbell! My new colleague - how are things?”

Serena extricated her hand, wiping it none too discretely on her scrubs and fixing him with a look that said plainly that she would take no nonsense.

“New colleague? News to me. Things are all right, I suppose, unless you count Petrenko getting fired, or my being stalked by some weird lizard guy.”

Gaskell chuckled, a little laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Such a sense of humour - what a card you are, Ms Campbell!”

Serena shook her head impatiently. “I wasn’t joking, actually. Never mind all that - it’s Lexi that I’ve come to see, not you, to update details on my personal file. It’s confidential, so you’ll need to leave.” 

Her tone was almost as harsh as her words, and irritation flashed across his expression briefly, like an extra eyelid, but Gaskell was obliging, even obsequious as he rubbed his hands together. “Of course, of course! Go on and change your file. You're changing it to say you'll work with me, no doubt: I’ll come back later to countersign the contract.”

Serena simply raised an eyebrow wearily. “If that's what you want to think, I doubt I’ll change your mind with an outright denial.”

He gave a little air punch. “That sounds like yes to me! I’ll go prepare the wet lab - what time shall I see you there?”

Without a flicker of humour, she suggested “How does never sound to you? I’m sure that you’ve got things to do - look, there’s the door.” And she ushered him out, then turned despairingly to the HR officer.

“Oh, Lexi - what am I going to do? I’ve signed to work with Bernie, only now she’s been suspended - well, on gardening leave: and Jac and Gaskell can’t seem to believe that I’m so far averse to him that I’d rather quit than join his team - oh, why did Bernie have to take Petrenko on? I thought we’d last forever, but now look at us!”

Lexi put out a hand to calm Serena down. “Hold your horses - I might have a workaround to this sad mess. Are you really prepared to quit?”

Her square jaw set firmly, Serena nodded. “I’m that far pissed off now, I think I am!”

“All right, here’s my plan. I’ll put you both on gardening leave to keep your name on file, but we’ll let everyone believe that you’ve left for good, then when all this trial nonsense has blown over, you'll both come back and work together, just as we planned. OK?”

Serena took a deep breath, then nodded.

“Fine.”

“All right: go back to Capulet for now and say you’ll work with Gaskell - put them off the scent. I’ll get word to Bernie so she’ll know your resignation’s just a means to put the professor off.”

Serena clasped her hand.

“Thanks Lexi, you’ve been great - I won’t forget.”

Squaring her shoulders, she turned and walked resolutely back out of the office to go and seal the deal.

***

Upstairs on Capulet ward, Fletch was under interrogation from Jac Naylor. She had been bending his ear about the position that Gaskell had offered Serena, making it very clear that she had every expectation of its being accepted.

“Serena’s gone to see HR, I hear?”

He nodded cautiously. “That’s right.”

“Let’s hope they've talked her into it,” Naylor said grimly.

Fletch, who had been sweating under the pressure, heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Serena herself clipping along the corridor, her shoulders set and her chin held high.

“Looks like it might have done the trick - she’s here, and looking happier than she did before.”

Jac waited until Serena stood before her and greeted her with narrowed eyes. “Serena. What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

Serena was positively effusive in her impression of a lost lamb returning to the fold, and she beamed as she explained, “I’ve seen the error of my ways - I was so dead set against working with Gaskell that I couldn’t see the other benefits, like learning how to manipulate evidence to prove his theories - even if it might cost us the occasional patient.”

Jac’s eyes narrowed even further - no mean feat - but Serena seemed to be on the level despite having come uncomfortably close to the truth about Gaskell’s work. 

“That’s more like it. Fletcher - go and help Serena pack her stuff up from her office.”

***

But once in her office, Serena turned to the nurse and dismissed him. “You know Fletch, I’ll manage on my own. There’s not that much in here I need to do.”

Checking first that the coast was clear, Fletch slipped out of the door and took the unexpected opportunity to nip to Pulses for a quick cuppa. Serena watched fondly as he left, then turned back to the task in hand.

“Right. Now where’s the frigging online termination of employment form? Or maybe I should write it out longhand? That way HR can simply ‘lose’ the letter: otherwise, the system will retain a record, and get poor Lexi in the soup later when it all comes out. All right.”

Sitting down at her desk for what she knew would be the last time, she took up her pen and wrote.

_Dear Henrik,_  


_It’s with regret that I tender my notice from the role of Consultant Surgeon on Capulet ward. I know Professor Gaskell is keen for me to work with him on his clinical trial, but truth be told, I have some concerns about the integrity of the project, and his methods._

_Thank you for the opportunities that this post has afforded me. I remain,_

_Your good friend,_  
_Serena Campbell_

She read it through and, satisfied, folded it neatly and slipped it into an envelope, addressing it to Henrik and placing it prominently on the desk. With one last look around the office that had been her second home, she switched off her PC, turned off the lights and shut the door softly behind her.

***

That afternoon saw preparations under way for the launch of Professor Gaskell’s project. In the Capulet staff room, the tables were spread with plates of food under cling film: glasses of cheap fizz were poured out ready, and a coffee urn was slowly dripping onto the creased white paper table cloth.

Jac inspected the tables with scorn and derision. “What's going on? Have catering cocked up? No gluten free, no vegan options here - there’ll be complaints from all the weirdos who think they’re hyperallergenic. And what’s this cheap and nasty cava for?We should have either bought champagne, or just served tap water.”

Fletch, who never seemed to learn his lesson where Jac Naylor was concerned, tried to placate her. “Calm down Ms Naylor - everything looks fine.”

She skewered him with a withering glance, but glancing at her watch, spared him the full force of her wrath and with a weary sigh, said “Just go and get Serena now - it’s time.”

Aware that he had just had something of a reprieve, Fletch trotted off gladly to Serena’s office to call her in to the staff room for the launch celebrations, and the announcement of her secondment to Gaskell’s trial, but even as he knocked on the door he saw that the lights were off, and on receiving no response, he tentatively pushed the door open.

“Serena - hey, Ms Campbell - are you here? That’s funny - could have sworn I saw here come in here a while ago, but now she’s gone, and - oh, she’s left a note. Oh crikey - it’s addressed to Mr H! She must have changed her mind and jacked it in.” He craned his head back round the door and called out, “Ms Naylor - Jac! - you’d better get in here. Serena’s been and gone and left, I think.”

Jac was there in an instant, accompanied by Lexi and Gaskell himself. All business, Lexi looked around the office, an innocent look on her face.

“Here we are, all ready to endorse the contract: Gaskell’s here, and Jac, of course - but where’s Serena? What’s that you’ve got there, Nurse Fletcher? Come on, everything’s been planned down to the last detail, now all we need’s Serena’s signature - it’s all been agreed.”

Fletch was still clutching the envelope, looking aghast. “A spanner in the works, that’s what this is: look, it’s addressed to Hanssen - I guess the trial’s not quite what she’s got planned after all!”

Blinking rapidly in his distress, Professor Gaskell lifted first one hand, then the other, like a lizard on hot sand.

“What a disaster - my trial project’s doomed! She would have been the perfect assistant: so gullible, so bidabble! And she’d never have cottoned on to my - ahem - _working practices._ ”

Fletch gave him an appraising look, and his tone was almost sympathetic. “You haven't known Serena long, mate, eh?” He shook his head pityingly. “She saw through you and your reptilian ways. But now she’s gone, the best boss I ever had -” but he could speak no longer, choked with emotion.

Seizing the moment, Lexi pounced.

“Professor Gaskell, could I have a word? Your so-called ‘working practices’ have lost us yet another consultant, and so soon after losing Doctors Petrenko and Digby. If anyone should quit, it should be you. This way, please - this needs to go straight to the top.”

As she ushered the nervous professor out of the staff room and up to Hanssen’s office, Jac huffed and surveyed the room.

“I suppose all this food and drink will go to waste now -” but a happy thought struck her. “Unless we call it Gaskell’s leaving do instead? It looks as though they’ve cottoned on to his dodgy ways. Oh well, now that everyone’s here we might as well crank up the karaoke.”

And so the party that had been planned to celebrate the launch of Professor John Gaskell’s prestigious project marked instead both the demise of the project, and the potentially imminent departure of its leader. Strangely enough, it seemed to go with rather more of a swing once he had left the room.


	9. The Lost Folio: Act V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale of Juliet and Romeo  
> Doth end in sorrow, as the world doth know.  
> Might all these surgeons mend a broken tale?  
> Or will the reader sob, and gnash, and wail  
> At how the story hath so sadly ended?  
> Or with a cunning trick might all be mended?  
> Read on, read on - (alas, alack - I ramble) -  
> Of Bernie Wolfe and her Serena Campbell.

**Scene i: A street in Holby**

_Enter Bernie_

Bernie:  
I had the weirdest dream last night: I dreamed  
That I’d been sacked, but then Serena came  
And kissed me, and then everything was fine.  
We even shared a ward all of our own!  
It must be a good sign it’s going well  
At work - oh, Lofty Chiltern’s here! Hello!

_Enter Lofty_

Lofty:  
Ms Wolfe? Bad news - Serena’s quit her job.

Bernie:  
She’s quit - the fuck? But what about our plan?  
That’s it, I’m going back. I’ll quit as well.

Lofty:  
I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Ms Wolfe -

Bernie:  
Nonsense! Bugger that, I’m going anyway.  
Did Lexi give you any messages for me?

Lofty:  
Nothing - haven’t even seen her.

Bernie:  
                                                 Never mind.  
It doesn’t really matter anyway.  
Off you go - get back to work, Nurse Chiltern.  
Thanks for bringing me the news - goodbye.

_Exit Lofty_

Bernie:  
Oh well, that’s that - it would have been a dream  
To work with her on Montague, or even  
Capulet - as long as she was there  
I would have worked on either, or another  
Altogether - but she’s gone away.  
I’ll do the same, and do - I don’t know what,  
But I can’t stay there now my dream has died.  
I thought I saw a place the other day,  
Not far from here, where someone good with words  
Would write a letter, or complete a form;  
I’ll go to them and have them write a note  
Informing Hanssen of my plan to leave.  
Ah - here it is - Imelda Cousins is the name  
Above the door: I hope she knows her stuff.  
Hello, Ms Cousins? Anybody there?

_Enter Imelda, shabbily dressed_

Imelda:  
Who’s that? I thought I heard someone come in.

Bernie:  
They did - it’s me. I need a letter done,  
And fast - you look as though you need the work.  
A note of resignation from my job,  
Immediate effect if possible.  
Addressed to Henrik Hanssen, CEO  
Of Holby City Hospital, and signed  
By Berenice Griselda Wolfe - that’s me:  
Don’t ask about the name, for no-one yet  
Has come up with a back story that fits  
Or could explain this odd cacophony  
Of syllables the writers gave to me.  
Well, never mind all that, the question is  
Can you provide a note to do the job,  
To let me quit at once, today?

Imelda:  
                                             I can:  
But Holby byelaws say I shouldn’t do,  
Because I worked there in HR last year,  
And left in some disgrace because  
I used employees’ names to populate  
The romance novel which I wrote at work.  
I dare not break the terms of my release,  
And so I cannot help with what you need.

Bernie:  
I’ll pay you double.

Imelda:  
                             Done. Just sign it here,  
And here - and once again, just here - that’s it.  
Just give this note to Hanssen and you’re done.

Bernie.  
I am - I’m done for good with all the bullshit  
That place runs on, and the politics.  
There’s your money - twice the price you ask.  
Get yourself a little something nice -  
A new blouse wouldn’t hurt, to be quite frank.  
That’s me away, back to the hospital  
To hand this note to Hanssen - thanks: goodbye.

 

**Scene ii: Lexi’s office**

_Enter Morven_

Morven:  
Hello, Lexi? Are you there? Hello - it’s me!

Lexi:  
That sounds like Morven Shreve, if I’m not wrong,  
The new girl that I sent to Bernie’s house  
To make sure that she knew Serena’s plan.  
Miss Shreve: you got on well, I trust? All done?

Morven:  
I couldn’t find her street - my phone ran out  
Because I used the sat nav all the way,  
And then I got pulled over ’cos they saw  
Me holding up my phone next to my face  
Although I wasn’t talking - I’m not daft -  
Just trying to hear the sat nav when it died.  
And by the time they let me go I had  
To come back here - I’ve go to go  
To yoga class tonight - I can’t be late.

Lexi:  
For fuck’s sake, Morven, this isn’t a game:  
Two surgeons were depending on that note!  
Now Bernie doesn’t know Serena’s gone  
In name alone, just waiting for a call  
To say she can come back without the risk  
Of working with the lizard man again.  
All right: let’s think. What’s best to do right now?  
I’d better go tell Ms Wolfe myself,  
And let Serena know what’s going on.

 

**Scene iii: The HR department**

_Enter Gaskell and his PA, Meena_

Gaskell:  
Let’s have those flowers, Meena, please:  
I’ll go and leave them on Serena’s desk.  
No woman could resist such blooms as these -  
They’re bound to make her want to work with me  
Although she seems to think she’d rather leave.  
[ _Into his dictaphone_ ]  
The human female is quite odd this way,  
For I am clearly the superior male  
Of all those in her orbit there at work,  
Both human and reptilian: so why  
Should she not wish to work with me  
And fabricate the facts I wish to see?

Meena:  
I’ll wait just here if that's all right with you:  
I’ll let you know if someone comes along.

Gaskell:  
I’ll take this bouquet to Serena’s desk.  
I know she’s gone, but someone’s sure to take  
Her personal belongings back to her.

_Meena waves frantically at him_

Gaskell:  
The female juvenile has made a sign:  
So someone’s on their way - I’d better hide.

 _He and Meena conceal themselves behind a vending machine._  
_Enter Bernie and Lofty_

Bernie:  
Right, off you toddle, Lofty - thanks again.  
You needn’t wait around, just head straight off.  
I’m sure that you've got better things to do  
Than watch me carry out dull admin tasks.

Lofty:  
All right. - take care, Ms Wolfe. I’ll see you soon.

[ _Aside_ ]  
I’ll wait here all the same - she’s not herself.

_Lofty hides behind a filing cabinet_

Gaskell:  
That’s Bernie Wolfe who got Petrenko fired,  
Which led to my Ms Campbell leaving work!  
Now what’s she up to? Further devilment  
To get me into trouble, I suspect.

_He comes out from behind the vending machine_

Gaskell:  
Berenice Griselda Wolfe - if that’s your name!

[ _Aside_ ]  
These humans have strange naming protocols.

[ _To Bernie_ ]  
What do you think you’re doing now, you cow?  
You lost me my assistant, and my trial’s  
In jeopardy without her input now.

Bernie:  
Oh, piss off, Lizardboy - who even cares?  
It’s known throughout all Holby you’re a fraud.  
You know you speak in brackets now and then?  
It doesn’t make your voice inaudible.  
For that you need to be right out of shot.  
So everybody’s heard your sneaky plan  
To fake all your results - your time’s up, pal.  
On my way in I left a file of proof:  
A nice P45 is in the post for you.

_Exit Gaskell, hissing angrily, shedding his human skin._

Bernie:  
That’s one job done: now for the next.  
To Hanssen’s office, to give him this note.

 _Exit Bernie._  
_Meena comes out from behind the vending machine._

Meena:  
What the hell was that? Have I just been  
PA to that shapeshifting lizard freak?  
That’s it - I’m going to fetch Security.

_Exit Meena  
Enter Lexi_

Lexi:  
Oh, god, it’s gone tits up and no mistake!  
I got to Bernie’s - she’d already left.  
If I can find her soon there might be hope -

Lofty:  
Oh, Lexi - there you are - thank god it’s you!  
It’s Bernie. She’s gone nuts - I think she’s quit!

Lexi:  
Fucking hell, today gets worse and worse.  
You’re joking, right? Please tell me it’s a hoax.

Lofty:  
I told her that Serena quit, and so  
She came back here to do the same, I think.

_Enter Serena_

Serena:  
Everything should be worked out by now.  
Where’s Bernie - is she here to take me home?  
Tomorrow we’ll come back and start anew  
Without Professor Gaskell on our backs.

Lexi:  
Ah yes - Serena. Now, about that. Look -  
You’ll laugh when you find out what’s happened now.  
Bernie thought you’d quit for good - and so  
She’s done the same. She didn’t get the message  
And she got Professor Gaskell fired,  
Then handed in her resignation, too.

Serena:  
What?

Lexi:  
           You heard me right, I’m sad to say.  
It seems she’s gone to hand her notice in,  
My new assistant having failed to let her know  
That your own resignation was a ruse  
To get Professor Gaskell off your case.

Serena:  
Then what’s the point of even being here?  
If I can’t work with Bernie, then I quit.  
We’ll go and find some other place to work:  
A hospital in Kiev, in Ukraine;  
A camp for refugees in the Sudan,  
Or go to hashtag Kenya, hashtag now -  
Oh god, she’s got me doing it as well.

_She writes_

Look, here it is - my job here’s done:  
Dear Hanssen, it’s been real and it’s been fun,  
But real fun? I wouldn’t say so, no.  
You ought to sort your wards out if you can,  
Before their squabbling ends up with the death  
Of some poor patient caught between the two.  
And so my tenure here is at an end:  
I have to leave, but I remind your friend,  
Serena Campbell, lesbian. So long.

_Enter Meena with Security staff_

Meena:  
I’m telling you, he shed his skin and then  
He slithered off that way in lizard form!  
You’d better go get Hanssen, double quick.

_Exit Security staff  
Enter Hanssen, Sacha and Jac_

Hanssen:  
What’s this I hear about my good friend John?  
A lizard all this time, and now he’s gone!  
I should have known, for it explains why he  
Could grow new limbs so very easily.  
Now Lexi, tell me what else has gone down.

Lexi:  
Where to start! Prepare your fiercest frown,  
For Bernie Wolfe from Montague has left;  
And now Serena Campbell, late of Capulet  
Has done the same. We’re leaking staff this week  
More rapidly than any dripping tap.  
For first Petrenko broke poor Arthur's arm,  
Then Bernie incapacitated her.  
Professor Gaskell, as you know, is gone  
Back to the sewers where his kind belong,  
And all stems from the feud that long has stood  
Between the wards, where no feud should.

Hanssen:  
Ms Naylor; Mr Levy - what have you to say?  
Your fight of old has caused all this today.  
Consultants, Registrars, F1s, F2s  
Perpetuate the argument - all lose.  
Take one another’s hands and shake, go on -  
I will not stand another day of this.

Jac:  
Come on, then, Sacha - put your paw right here.  
We’ve lost good staff today from both our wards.  
For me, Serena’s gone, and Frieda too,  
And you’ve lost Bernie Wolfe - a heavy blow.

Sacha:  
Add to that poor Arthur - and I guess  
We have to count John Gaskell as a loss?  
Agreed - this feud has cost us far too dear,  
So let us put an end to it, right here.

_They shake hands_

Lexi:  
The feud is over, and there’s more good news.  
The contract that I had our ladies sign  
Was not, as they each thought, a simple one  
To let them work together on one ward,  
But to create their very own anew.  
Officially it’s known as Mantua ward,  
Acute assessment unit’s what it’s for:  
Co-leads they’ll be on our new AAU.

_Enter Bernie. She and Serena kiss. A lot._

Hanssen:  
Our thanks are due to Lexi for this trick.  
Today was shaping up for tragedy  
Until she put her cunningness to use.  
I’ve had a word with th’orthopaedics team,  
And Frieda’s hand will mend, and Arthur’s, too.  
I’ll reinstate them when the time is come -  
And call out pest control to deal with John.

Chorus:  
Our story’s done: all’s mended with a trick,  
Just as it ought to be in good fan fic.  
Forgive Professor FlimFlam all her sins  
Against the Bard of Avon - for love wins  
O’er tragedy - yes, comedy’s the thing  
For turning hate to love, and so we sing:  
For never was a tale of greater love  
Than of Serena and her Bernie Wolfe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue rapturous applause, standing ovation, flowers for the cast and cries of “Author! Author!”
> 
> Thank you for attending the Wyvern Theatre this evening, your patronage is greatly appreciated. Please ensure you take all your belongings with you, and we hope to see you here again soon.
> 
> [But first - one more prose chapter to come - hope you’ve enjoyed both versions!]
> 
> FF x


	10. The Book Of The Film: Chapter 5

In a front garden on a quiet street in one of Holby’s leafy suburbs, Bernie Wolfe was making the most of her gardening leave by actually doing some gardening. Things had been so hectic at work lately that she had not had time to do much around the house or outside, and she was taking the opportunity to trim an overgrown bush, musing to herself as she wielded her secateurs.

“I had the weirdest dream last night: I dreamed that I’d been sacked, but then Serena came and kissed me, and then everything was fine. We even shared a ward all of our own! Perhaps it’s a sign that it’s going well at work - oh, Lofty - hello!”

She waved cheerfully at the young man as he skidded to a halt on his bike, but he looked glum as only Lofty could, and he wasted no time in breaking the news he had overheard.

“Ms Wolfe? Bad news - Serena’s quit her job.”

Bernie stared back at him, nonplussed.

“She’s quit - what the -? But what about our plan? That’s it, I’m going back. I’m quitting as well.” And she clipped her secateurs closed, tossing them in the porch, and strode towards her car.

Lofty intercepted her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Ms Wolfe -”

“Bugger that, I’m going anyway. Unless - did Lexi give you a message for me?” She asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Nothing - haven’t even seen her.”

Bernie’s shoulders sagged. “Never mind. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Off you go - get back to work, Nurse Chiltern. Thanks for bringing me the news - goodbye.” And she waved him off with a gesture that he was too timid to disobey. Tightening the strap of his helmet under his chin, he pedalled away in the direction he’d come from. Bernie watched him go, and she watched her hope disappear round the corner with him.

“Oh well, that’s that - it would have been a dream to work with her on Montague, or even Capulet - as long as she was there I would have worked on either, or another altogether - but if she’s gone and quit...”

A new resolve took hold of her. “I’ll do the same, and do - I don’t know what, but I can’t stay there now my dream has died.”

Her mind made up to quit her post at Holby, Bernie thought quickly through her options and her next moves. She would have to inform the hospital of her decision - a letter, she supposed, but how she hated writing letters! While she could scribble medical notes until the cows came home, putting words in any sort of order other than bullet pointed symptoms and treatments had always presented an insurmountable challenge to her. What she needed was a secretary or a PA.

“I saw a place somewhere round here the other day, a paralegal secretary or something like that; I’ll go and see if they can draw something up for me.”

She shoved her car keys back in her pocket and set off on foot instead, heading for the high street a few minutes away. Down a tatty side alley, with dust and litter swirling in the breeze, she found what she was looking for.

“Ah - here it is - _Imelda Cousins Secretarial Services:_ I hope she knows her stuff. Hello, Ms Cousins? Anybody there?”

The door creaked as she pushed it open, and a bell clanged somewhere behind the counter. A voice came from the back room, followed by the appearance of a middle aged woman in an ill fitting power suit that had seen better days - as had its owner.

“Who’s that? I thought I heard someone come in.”

Bernie peered through the gloom and gave a little gesture, not quite a wave.

“They did - it’s me. I need a letter written, and fast - you look as though you need the work. I’m resigning from my job, with immediate effect if possible. Address it to Henrik Hanssen, CEO of Holby City Hospital, and signed by Berenice Griselda Wolfe - that’s me: don’t ask about the name, long story. Well, never mind all that, the question is, can you provide a note that will let me quit at once, today?”

Ms Cousins put her head on one side and sucked her teeth.

“I can: but I really shouldn’t do, because I worked there in HR last year, and to be honest, left in disgrace because I used employees’ names for a romance novel I got caught writing at work. I daren’t break the terms of my parole, and so -” she shook her head firmly - “I’m sorry, but I can’t help.”

Bernie put her hand in her pocket and bought out her wallet, waving it temptingly under Ms Cousin’s nose.

“I’ll pay you double…”

“Done.” Imelda whipped out a proforma and quickly filled out the pertinent sections, and shoved it over the counter for Bernie to sign.  
“Just sign it here, and here - and once again, just here - that’s it. Just give this note to Hanssen and you’re done.”

Bernie laughed, a hollow laugh with no mirth behind it.

“I am - I’m done for good with all the bullshit politics that place runs on. There’s your money - and a bit extra. Get yourself a little something nice - a new blouse wouldn’t hurt, to be quite frank.” She counted out the notes and left them on the counter.

“Right, that’s me away, back to the hospital to hand this over to Hanssen - thanks.”

Even before the door closed and the bell let out its doleful chime, Imelda was already in the back room, squirrelling the notes away in a biscuit tin.

***

  
“Hello, Lexi? Are you there? Hello - it’s me!”

Lexi looked up from yet more paperwork, running a hand through her already dishevelled hair. It was Morven Shreve, the new girl that she had sent to Bernie’s house to make sure that she knew Serena’s plan.

“Miss Shreve: you got on well, I trust? All done?”

Morven sidled into the room, her hands worrying nervously at the file of papers Lexi had given her to pass to Bernie. Speaking rapidly, partly from nerves and partly from her own natural mile-a-minute personality, she explained.

“I couldn’t find her street - my phone ran out because I used the sat nav all the way, and then I got pulled over ’cos they saw me holding up my phone next to my face, although I wasn’t talking - I’m not daft - just trying to hear the sat nav when it died. And by the time they let me go I had to come back here - I’ve go to go to yoga class tonight - I can’t be late…” she trailed off as she saw the thunderous look that Lexi was giving her.

“For fuck’s sake, Morven, this isn’t a game: two surgeons were depending on that note! So Bernie still doesn’t know Serena’s resignation’s just a ruse, so if she hears about it, she’ll think it’s for real. All right: let’s think. What’s best to do right now? I’d better go tell her myself, and let Serena know what’s going on.”

***

As Lexi was leaving the hospital, John Gaskell was sneaking back in, in breach of his peremptory termination at the hands of his former friend Henrik. He had brought along his PA, Meena Chowdhury, who didn’t yet know that he’d been fired, and together they made their way up to Capulet.

Gaskell held his hand out imperiously.

“Let’s have those flowers, Meena, please: I’ll go and leave them on Serena’s desk. No woman could resist such blooms as these - they’re bound to make her want to work with me, although for some reason she seems to think she’d rather leave.”

Clicking his dictaphone on, he muttered, “ _The adult human female is quite odd this way, for I am clearly the superior male of all those in her orbit at work, so why should she not wish to work with me? Further experimentation is required._ ”

Unable to hear exactly what he was saying, but feeling inexplicably uncomfortable, Meena backed away from him and gestured to an alcove in the corridor.

“I’ll, um - I’ll wait just here if that's all right with you: I’ll let you know if anyone’s coming.”

Gaskell nodded absently. “I’ll take this bouquet to Serena’s desk. I know she’s gone, but someone’s sure to take her personal belongings back to her.”

But no sooner had he deposited the flowers on Serena's desk than Meena waved frantically at him, and he clicked the dictaphone on again.

“ _The female juvenile has made a sign: so someone’s on their way - I’d better hide_.”

He and Meena concealed themselves behind a vending machine in the corridor just as Bernie strode onto the ward, followed by Lofty. Bernie, who had not managed to shake the young man off properly since he came to her house, tried once more to dismiss him.

“Right, off you toddle, Lofty - thanks again. You needn’t wait around, just head straight off. I’m sure that you've got better things to do than watch me carry out dull admin tasks.”

“All right - take care, Ms Wolfe. I’ll see you soon.”

He raised a hand to her and reluctantly turned away back down the corridor, but as soon as her attention was elsewhere, he stepped neatly behind a filing cabinet.

“I’ll wait here all the same - she’s not herself.”

Professor Gaskell, who had seen them arrive, but had not noticed Lofty ducking into his hiding place, whispered to Meena, “That’s Bernie Wolfe who got Petrenko fired, which led to my Ms Campbell leaving! Now what’s she up to? Further devilment to get me into trouble, I suspect.”

He slithered out from behind the vending machine with his odd, sidewinding gait and challenged her.

“Ms Wolfe! What do you think you’re doing now? You lost me my assistant, and my trial’s been cancelled thank to you!”

Bernie barely turned a hair.

“Oh, piss off, lizard boy - who even cares? Everyone knows you’re a fraud. You know when you speak into your dictaphone? It doesn’t actually make your voice inaudible, and everybody’s heard your sneaky, snakey plan to fake your results - your time’s up, pal.”

He closed in on her angrily, but her merest gesture sent him skittering away. As he scarpered, she called after him, “I’ve left a file of proof with HR: there’s a P45 in the post for you.”

Dusting off her hands as though she had actually had to manhandle him, Bernie spoke with some satisfaction.

“That’s one job done: now for the next. To Hanssen’s office, to give him this note.”

And she headed straight for the stairs, not even waiting for the lift to take her to Hanssen. In a state of shock and outrage, Meena came out from behind the vending machine.

“What the hell was that? Have I really just been working for some fraudulent lizard freak? That’s it - I’m going to fetch security.”

She stormed off in pursuit of justice. From the opposite end of what was rapidly becoming the busiest corridor in the hospital came Lexi, wringing her hands.

“Oh, god, it’s gone tits up and no mistake! By the time I got to Bernie’s she’d already left. If I can find her soon there might be hope -”

Lofty interrupted her, as he stepped out from behind his filing cabinet.

“Oh, Lexi - there you are - thank God it’s you! It’s Bernie. She’s gone nuts - I think she’s quit!”

Lexi swore. “Fucking hell, today gets worse and worse. You’re joking, right? Please tell me it’s a hoax.”

Wide-eyed as ever, he shook his head, setting his dark curls bobbing. “I told her that Serena quit, and so she came back here to do the same, I think.”

Right on cue, the unmistakeable clip of Serena’s leopard print heels announced her arrival.

“Everything should be worked out by now. Where’s Bernie - is she here to take me home? Tomorrow we’ll come back and start anew without Professor Gaskell on our backs!”

Lexi winced.

“Ah yes - Serena. Now, about that. Look - you’ll laugh when you find out what’s happened now. Bernie thought you’d quit for good - and so - it’s almost funny, really, when you think about it - she’s done the same. She didn’t get the message, and she came in with a dossier of evidence to make sure Gaskell got fired, then handed in her own resignation.”

“What?”

Fletch shuddered at the familiar tone, and Lexi took a step back as Serena closed in on her.

“You heard me right, I’m sorry to say. It seems she’s gone to hand her notice in, my new assistant having failed to let her know that your own resignation was just a ruse to get Professor Gaskell off your case.”

Serena threw her hands up in despair.

“Then what’s the point of my even being here? If I can’t work with Bernie, then I really do quit. We’ll go and find somewhere else to work: a hospital in Kiev; a refugee camp in the Sudan, or go to hashtag Kenya, hashtag now - oh god, she’s got me doing it as well!”

Laughing almost hysterically, she pulled a pen out of her handbag and wrote quickly on the nearest paper to hand - the back of a patient file.

“Look, here you go - my work here’s done.”

 _Dear Hanssen,_  
  
_It’s been real and it’s been fun, but real fun? I wouldn’t say so, no. Sort these stupid wards out, before their squabbling ends up with the death of some poor patient caught in the crossfire._

_Yours sincerely,_  
_Serena Campbell, lesbian._

“Go on - take it.”

As she pushed the folder at Lexi, trying to get her to accept it, Meena came back in with several security guards trailing, somewhat baffled, in her wake.

“I’m telling you, he showed his true colours to Ms Wolfe and then he slithered off that way! You’d better go get Hanssen, double quick.”

But even as the security guards gurned at each other trying to work out what she was talking about, Hanssen himself bore down upon the ward, followed closely by Jac and Sacha, both having to rush to keep up with his long-legged stride.

Hanssen’s tone was fearsome.

“What’s this I hear about my good friend John? A fraudster all this time, and made his escape! I should have known: it explains how he seemed able to source new data quite so quickly. Now Lexi, tell me what else has been going on, please.”

Well aware how ludicrous was the tale she was about to spin, Lexi took a deep breath.

“Where to start! Brace yourself, Mr Hanssen. Right. Bernie Wolfe from Montague has quit; and now Serena Campbell of Capulet has done the same. We’re leaking staff this week like a dripping tap. First Petrenko broke poor Arthur's arm, then Bernie incapacitated her. Professor Gaskell, as you know, is gone back to the sewers where his kind belong, and all because of this feud between the wards, though no-one can remember how it started.”

Hanssen’s frown grew impossibly deeper, fiercer.

“Ms Naylor; Mr Levy - what have you to say? Your rivalry has caused all this mess. Consultants, Registrars, F1s, F2s all perpetuate the argument - and everyone loses. Take one another’s hands and shake, go on - I will not stand another day of this.”

Henrik Hanssen with his dander up was not a man to be naysayed, and Jac was the first to relent under the pressure of his glare.

“Come on, then, Sacha - put your paw here. We’ve lost good staff this week from both our wards. For me, Serena’s gone, and Frieda too, and you’ve lost Bernie Wolfe - that’s a heavy blow.”

Sacha nodded solemnly.

“Add to that poor Arthur - and I guess we have to count John Gaskell as a loss? Agreed - this feud has cost us far too dear, so let us put an end to it, right now.”

He held out his hand, and although she approached with some suspicion - for old habits are hard to break - Jac Naylor took it and shook it firmly, with as much strength as she could muster. Only when a small tear showed at the corner of Sacha’s eye did she release him, but Sacha, being Sacha, rather than retaliate, simply shrugged as though to say “Wha the hell,” and crushed her in a mighty bear hug.

While all this had been going on, Lexi had noticed a rustling noise from one of the bays, and with a sigh of relief, she proclaimed, “The feud is over - and there’s more good news. The contract that I had our ladies sign was not, as they each thought, a simple one to let them work together on one ward, but to create their very own anew. Officially it’s known as Mantua ward: acute assessment unit’s what it’s for, so co-leads they’ll be on our new AAU.”

So saying, she drew back the screens around the bay, where Bernie had been listening with baited breath to these extraordinary goings on.

Hanssen, whose frown had transformed into a beatific smile, extended a hand to Bernie, and the other to Serena.

“Our thanks are due to Lexi for this trick. Today was shaping up for tragedy until she put her cunning to good use. I’ve had a word with the orthopaedics team, and Frieda’s hand will mend, and Arthur’s, too. I’ll reinstate them when the time is come - and send out security to deal with John.”

At that, a cheer rose on the ward, and throwing a quick glance at Lexi to convey their gratitude, Serena Campbell and Bernie Wolfe, co-leads on Holby City’s new Mantua ward, stepped into each other's embrace and kissed as passionately as any Romeo and Juliet, re-writing their own happy ending.

***

Our story’s done: all’s mended with a trick,  
Just as it ought to be in good fan fic.  
Forgive Professor FlimFlam all her sins  
Against the Bard of Avon - for love wins  
O’er tragedy - yes, comedy’s the thing  
For turning hate to love, and so we sing:  
For never was a tale of greater love  
Than of Serena and her Bernie Wolfe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the clearest evidence yet that I have lost the plot - or at least the way out of this Berena rabbit hole. I hope you’ve enjoyed this bit of silliness!
> 
> Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
> 
> FF x


End file.
